His Last Wish
by Primrue
Summary: After the war has ended, Hermione finds a box of Fred Weasley's memories. What are they and why did he leave them for her to find after he died? And most importantly; will it change anything?
1. Prologue

Prologue

Hermione Granger had never been one to believe in fate. Her disdain for the 'art' of divination was widely known. Granted, the past few years had been close to make her reconsider. She firmly believed, however, that had Voldemort never heard of the prophecy he would have never targeted her best friend, Harry Potter, and as a consequence never created the path to his own destruction. She felt bold for even thinking it, but if You-Know-Who had been logical like Hermione and not put his faith in the words of a loony, he probably would have succeeded in conquering the entire island before Harry even got old enough to enter Hogwarts.

No, Hermione Granger did not believe that there was some big plan in store for everyone.

Therefore, she did not consider it odd when _she_ was the one to find the box in Fred Weasley's old bedroom.

It was the first Christmas holiday since the war ended but the twin's absence was felt by everyone still. The one most affected by his passing was of course George, who at the moment was seated in the living room, being comforted by Angelina. They had originally been the ones designated to clear Fred's room, but between the two of them it had proven far too difficult. All it had taken for George was to spot the photo on Fred's dresser of the two of them opening the shop, and he had to leave to stop the panic rising inside of him. Angelina had cried and held him close. Hermione was glad George had Angelina. Even though it was clear he wasn't ready for anything resembling a relationship just yet, he had somewhere to turn for comfort. And Angelina seemed to understand that.

The apartment above Weasley's Wizard Wheezes was not small, but it only had two bedrooms, meaning that Ron, who would move in shortly so as to help George manage the shop, would take Fred's old bedroom. It had taken a long time for the people involved come to terms with that, but it was the most logical solution. At first, their friends had jokingly suggested he just move in with Hermione. Ron's ears had turned red at the thought and Hermione had felt her eyes grow wider than Quaffles.

The two Gryffindor's had been dating ever since that kiss at the battle of Hogwarts, but it was still a very new and tender subject. Years of trying to hide the way they felt about each other had left them utterly unprepared for public displays of affection and as a result, things were still a little delicate to say the least.

 _He did kiss me before I boarded the train, though._ Hermione thought and blushed at the memory. Her two best friends had waved her good bye when she left to finish her last year along with Ginny, Luna and Neville. So far it had been an uneventful term, with the exception of the stress that came along with studying and preparing for her N.E.W.T.s.

Hermione had been prepared for that part. She had not been prepared for the stress that came from trauma. Everywhere she looked in castle, she was reminded of the place where someone she had known had lost their lives. It was like a twisted game her mind played. 

_Look, there is the spot Colin Creevey died. So young. Oh, and you never did like Lavender, so look carefully at the place where Greyback ripped her face open. At least Lupin and Tonks got a nice view of the grounds moments before they died._

Worst of all was the hallway where the wall had collapsed on Fred Weasley. Ginny had passed it several times the first few weeks, placing a flower by the rubble. Hermione had followed her every night she went there to cry. She never dared reveal herself, but she had a feeling Ginny had known, and judging by the sad smile she usually gave Hermione the morning after, she was grateful.

And it wasn't like Hermione would lose any possible sleep either way. She never realized how much she had lived to see until the events played like a horror movie in her dreams. Correction: nightmares. It had been one thing when she had a clear goal; where the mission was to keep Harry alive, keep Ron alive, find the Horcruxes, and destroy the Horcruxes…They had been good distractions. The N.E.W.T.s hardly qualified to fill that role. And after retrieving her parents from Australia she had nothing quite as large to occupy her thoughts.

That is, until she found the box. They hadn't dared evacuate the room with magic, not knowing what charms or inventions Fred had left there. She had been helping Ron look through Fred's cupboard when he left for the bathroom, and she had stumbled upon it whilst packing away some of his brother's jumpers (along with the dragon skin jacket which made Hermione roll her eyes and give a small smile). She looked at the small package, read the label and frowned.

 _Keep your mitts off if you want to keep them_

 _Sincerely  
-Fred_

It was a small carton, slightly bigger than her two hands combined. Knowing the twin, he had probably had a good reason to ward off unwanted snoops, meaning the object in the box was dangerous or private… _or_ it was an elaborate prank, the label a trick to lure people to peek inside it. Hermione did not dare guess which it was. However, she was curious.

 _Never mind. I should probably just hand this over to George and let him determine what to do with it._ Hermione decided.

She was just about to put it aside, when the box suddenly gave a faint glow and revealed more text on the label.

 _P.S. Unless it's you, Granger._

Now she really was intrigued.


	2. Year One

Disclaimer: *In a dramatic voice* I own nothing….Nothing!

Year one

* * *

~o0o~

* * *

Hermione had been staring at the box for half an hour before Harry knocked on her bedroom door. She reluctantly rose from the bed, but first making sure to hide the box inside her nightstand drawer. For whatever reason, she wasn't certain she wanted people to know Fred had left her something.

And she _was_ sure he had left it for her. Hours of spellchecking, testing enchantments on it to see if it was a prank or not (you could never be too careful) had proven to her that it was just a box. A box which would only have reacted to her touch, and only could be opened by her.

There were no doubts about it; Fred Weasley had left her, Hermione Jean Granger, something. The only questions remained: Why? And what was it?

She still hadn't opened it. The lid was lifted less than an inch when she began contemplating whether or not she should. She overanalyzed, it's what she did.

Harry was giving her a shy smile, and Hermione sighed.

"Did Ronald send you?" she asked after giving her best friend a hug and let him in. Her mother stood behind him and asked the two of them if they would like some tea. They both politely declined and Mrs. Granger left her daughter alone with Harry.

He gave Crookshanks a little ruffle and quickly made himself comfortable on her bed, and Hermione smiled. Both Harry and Ron had visited her often after the war, knowing she hadn't wanted to leave her parents for too long after returning from Australia. It was one of the few nice things the war had resulted in. Her two worlds had almost melted into one. She wished she had invited Harry to her home sooner, probably saving him from horrible summers at the Dursley's. After all, they hadn't lived too far from each other.

The-Boy-Who-Lived quirked an eyebrow at her. "What else?"

Hermione laughed. "So, what is it this time?"

Harry's smile faltered. "He told me you'd been acting odd ever since the two of you went to help George move Fred's stuff yesterday."

Hermione stiffened.

"It has been hard on everyone, I get it," Harry continued. "But you two actually had to be the ones to…well, move his things, and I know you weren't really close, but it must have been difficult for you, 'Mione. So, if you need to talk…I'm probably the one who can relate most you know?"

He was, she realized. Both of them had known Fred, but neither had been his sibling nor his friend for the longest time, like Lee. And they were both dating Weasley's, making them part of the family but not quite.

"It's just strange, Harry. I knew him, but there is no way I can understand how much it must hurt for his family. It just feels like I'm not allowed to be that sad, you know?"

 _Or allowed anything else for that matter...How can I accept a gift from Fred when he didn't even leave as much as a plant for George…?_

Harry looked at her, calculating. "Is that why you volunteered to clean his room? Because you felt it would be the least sad for you?"

She nodded. "And Ron needed me, I didn't think he should have to do it alone."

Again, Harry seemed to be deep in thought. "I think- and don't take this the wrong way- but for the brightest witch of our age, Hermione, you can be quite daft." He held his hands up when Hermione sent him a glare. "Listen. Of course you're allowed to be sad over Fred dying. He was Fred. He made people laugh. Ginny's got people coming up to her on the streets giving her their condolences. People who only knew him as half of the Weasley twins."

He rose from the bed and put his hands on her shoulders. "If you don't want to keep helping them clean out the room, then just tell Ron so. He'll understand. I'll help him instead, he's my best mate. And so are you."

Hermione gave a small sob and hugged her friend. She rested her head on his shoulder, thanking him. After taking a deep breath she said, "The war really messed everything up, didn't it, Harry?"

She felt him nod and he pulled back and gave a tiny smile. "Yeah, but at least we got each other. And I have Ginny and you have Ron."

Yes, she had Ron. It was all going to be okay.

* * *

~o0o~

* * *

After Harry left Hermione took out the box again. Her friend had helped her realize that whatever reason Fred had for leaving her the box it was all going to be fine. If he had left her something it meant he had cared for her (however little) and that thought made her happy. Because she was sad he had died, that the boy who made everyone laugh and had been so alive was no longer doing any of that. She had confirmed she had a right to find out what he had left her.

And thus, she opened it.

She held back a gasp.

Inside the box were eight small vials. She knew what they were.

 _But why would Fred Weasley hand me memories?_

If possible, she felt even more perplexed than before she'd opened the blasted thing. And they were labeled from one till eight. She supposed they were to be seen in order. She looked around her room.

She was lucky she actually had obtained a Pensieve shortly after the war. Without the help and insight the memories of Severus Snape provided Harry, the outcome might have been different. However much Hermione felt her best friend recently began to glorify their old professor, she was glad he had tried to redeem himself.

 _Just too bad he never felt it was wrong to emotionally abuse his students, myself included, along with Neville, and giving Harry hell for something his father did…_

She shook her head. Pensieve. Memories. Focus.

Hermione inhaled, and placed the container of memories on her desk before reaching for the vial labeled "nr.1". She brought out her Pensieve from the cupboard and emptied the flask. She was curious to see what she would meet and it wasn't until she had dropped her face into the Pensieve that she wondered whose memory it would be.

Not long after did that familiar sensation occur and she was met with the sound of a crowd and the sight of smoke. The scene was exactly how she remembered it.

 _No, but why…it can't be…_

The platform Nine and Three quarters of the year 1991 was alive and bustling. The scarlet Hogwarts express came in full view, crowds edging nearer the locomotive to board it, and next to her stood a ginger-haired boy. Hermione knew it as soon as she looked at him. _Fred_. Not George. And he was staring at something ahead, a smile playing on his lips. She traced his gaze and her mouth dropped.

A Muggle family stood gathered not too far away. The parents were fussing over a small girl, with hair bigger than her head, bushier than she herself ever remembered it being. The girl was putting on a brave face, telling her mother and father she would write them regularly and for them not to worry. The mother kissed her daughter on her forehead, telling her to be good and make lots of friends. The girl's façade crumbled a little at the second comment, but was quickly covered with a smile, her parents not noticing. Eleven year old Hermione hugged both of her parents and boarded the train.

Real Hermione looked back at the third year Fred who was still smiling, looking as if he had found the scene in front of him amusing. Hermione wondered what could possibly have been so funny. She remembered what happened this day. She had been nervous beyond belief, but she'd known her parents wouldn't have allowed her to go if she showed any doubt and she truly wanted to become a witch, so she had played along. Played brave. It had been exhausting.

They stood there for a couple of seconds before a voice called.

"Oy, Fred! C'mere and help!" George said.

Fred hurried to his twin brother and Hermione realized they were helping a small Harry tuck away his trunk in one of the compartments.

The scene shifted.

It was the Sorting Ceremony and Hermione saw herself eagerly running up to put the hat on after it had declared Seamus Finnigan be in Gryffindor. By the table next to her, Hermione heard Fred and George snicker.

"Isn't that the girl who told us to stop behaving childishly on the train," Lee whispered. "Bit bold for such a tiny thing, isn't she?"

"Oh, I do hope she ends up in Gryffindor, we'll make her see just how _childish_ we can be. Right, Fred?"

Fred just shook his head. "No way, Georgie. Look at her. She's more nervous than Ron is around spiders."

"Bet you a sickle."

"Deal."

"GRYFFINDOR!" shouted the hat. Their fellow Gryffindor's cheered and Hermione remembered with a warm feeling spreading through her chest, how excited she'd been when she had sat down and have people welcome her in that way. She'd been waiting for this moment her whole life. To feel that she belonged somewhere.

It did bother her slightly that she now found out, after all these years, Fred had bet against her. Well, she'd shown him.

The person in question gave a big groan and reluctantly handed his brother the coin he owed. Lee laughed and the three of them joined in cheering for little Hermione. Big Hermione smiled warmly at the scene. Fred seemed as lively as she remembered.

Another thing Hermione noticed was how Ron looked absolutely unhappy from where he was standing, waiting to be sorted, after the hat had yelled Gryffindor. She understood why, she had been a bit of a know-it-all, but they had hardly even known each other for a day at this moment. Had she been _that_ insufferable to him? She pursed her lips slightly but decided to let it go. This had happened years ago after all.

Again, the scenery switched.

"You're barking! _Hermione Granger_ did that?"

"No, I'm telling you, she _lied_ to Professor McGonagall! And that was after we saved her, mind you-"

"Yeah, we know. You're lucky mum hasn't heard about the troll. The mere thought of her ickle Ronniekins being in danger- she would need to be sent to St. Mungo's straight away."

The twins and Ron were walking down an empty corridor, chatting energetically. The light flickering from the torches was the only source of light. Hermione strode along the group.

She had figured quickly that the memories belonged to Fred but she was still trying to figure out the connection. Surely, they weren't just random? Were they?

The bickering eased up-or as much as it possibly could in the twins' presence- and Ron continued, his cheeks a bit red and a frown on his face. "Anyway, Harry and I saved her and Hermione told the Professors it had all been her idea to wander off and chase the troll down herself. And McGonagall believed her."

"Amazing," said Fred, an impressed expression on his face.

His twin looked at him curiously but then turned to their youngest brother. "Maybe she isn't as much of a know-it-all as you've made us believe, Ron?"

Ron snorted. "Believe me, she still is. But-"He struggled to find the words. "We're mates now, aren't we? We fought a troll together, hard not to become friends, right?"

The twins exchanged looks and then grinned at their brother.

"I do believe ickle Ronniekins is in love, George."

"Shuddup, am not."

"Oh, look at 'im blushing."

"Blushing? Isn't that how his face normally looks, Gred?"

"Nah, you're thinking about his red hair, Forge. This one usually has the pale, _ghostlike_ tinge, accompanied by a dumb look on his face-"

"-ah, you mean the one where it looks like he's trying to widen his mouth as much as possible?"

"Oh, shut it, you two," Ron growled before briskly walking ahead of them.

"Oh, dear, I think we upset him," Fred said, placing a hand dramatically on his mouth.

"Mischief managed then, I suppose." The twins smirked at each other at their private joke.

Hermione then, without warning, found herself behind one of the twins, sitting on a broom, and emitted a loud shriek. It didn't matter, seeing as how no one there could hear her.

It was the match against Slytherin and Harry was dangling from the jinxed broom. Fred and George were circling under him, hoping to catch him if he fell. Despite knowing how it ended, she found herself growing worried. It really looked like her best friend would fall anytime.

Fred, who sat in front of her, looked up as often as he could, but he was also evidently on the alert for any rogue Bludgers. Then, a small laugh escaped him, disbelief marking his face, as he looked sideways at one of the stands. A bush of hair had just knocked over Professor Quirrell headfirst, down at the row in front of him.

The scene switched again.

The twins tip-toed through the corridors, having been outside at night, and appeared through the Entrance Hall when they saw their brother and little Hermione talking to Professor Dumbledore. They quickly hid as the Professor turned around briefly, his eyes twinkling at them. He murmured something to Ron and Hermione before departing towards the third floor.

The pranksters made their way towards the youngest Weasley boy and were taken aback when they took in the state of the two first years.

"What happened to you lot?" Fred asked.

"It's a long story," Hermione said. She and Ron looked at each other, tiredly. "But we better get Ron to Madam Pomfrey, he was hurt."

"I'm fine, Hermione. It's Harry we should be worried about."

"What happened to Harry," the twins asked in unison.

On their way to the hospital wing they got their explanation. They listened to a story full of three-headed dogs, conspiracy theories and heavy rule breaking. They somehow managed to make it to their destination without stumbling upon Filch, Mrs. Norris or Peeves.

To say Madam Pomfrey was shocked was an understatement. Nevertheless, she examined both Ron and Hermione and determined they were well enough to get back to the Gryffindor tower. She nearly, physically and literally, _threw_ them out when Dumbledore arrived with an unconscious Harry. The four Gryffindors barely caught a glimpse before being ushered out.

"Thank Merlin he's alive," Hermione sobbed.

Fred put a hand on her shoulder. "Don't worry, Granger. Potter's not The-Boy-Who-Lived for nothing."

Hermione smiled but that smile quickly turned into a scowl when he added, "Although, I suppose, that's in past tense. _Lived_ , not lives- Oy, don't give me that look, you two. I'm only joking."

They were being awarded the House Cup.

"Second- to Miss Hermione Granger…for the use of cool logic in the face of fire, I award Gryffindor house fifty points." Dumbledore said.

Fred and George were whistling and both of them laughed when they saw Hermione burst into tears in her arms.

And then it ended. It had been strangely abrupt, and when Hermione returned to the present she couldn't help but shake the feeling that Fred's memories were somehow about her.

* * *

~o0o~

* * *

 _ **A/N: I hope you enjoyed!**_

 _ **I can't believe so many have already followed, favorited and reviewed my story! Thank you so much!**_

 _ **Please continue reviewing as it honestly makes my day!  
Until next time!**_

 _ **/Primrue**_


	3. Year Two

Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns the rights to Harry Potter. I promise I don't own any of it. Google it if you have to.

Second year

* * *

~ o0o~

* * *

Hermione didn't hesitate when reaching for the second vial, immediately emptying it into the Pensieve.

 _What the bloody hell is going on?_

The memories had unnerved her. Not only from seeing so many different, familiar faces alive and well there, but because these were Fred's memories. Fred Weasley. And each and every one of them had been linked to her. Why?

She mentally prepared herself for another trip down memory lane and stuck her head down like an ostrich.

As her surroundings solidified she quickly registered that she was standing in a crowded shop in Diagon Alley. Hermione remembered the place; it was Gambol and Japes Wizarding Joke Shop.

"Honestly, you two, are you still going on about Quality Quidditch Supplies? You were just staring at the window, and we all needed new ink and parchment. You'll thank me later," young Hermione told her two friends.

Harry and Ron sighed, knowing it was futile to argue. They turned their attention to the different products the store they were in had to offer and quickly forgot about how their bushy-haired friend had dragged them away from the sports store.

Hermione remembered how excited she had been that summer before second year. She had made friends, and at this moment in the memory she was actually out _shopping_ with them. Something she'd never even dared to hope before as she never really had any close friends before Harry and Ron.

But when the two boys started walking around together in the store, unintentionally leaving her to fend for herself, young Hermione's insecurities had begun bubbling up to the surface. Had she scared them off? Were they starting to find her annoying again? Perhaps she should have just let them stare at the Quidditch stuff…

The present Hermione sighed as she saw how troubled her younger self looked. _Don't worry_ , she wanted to say. _Harry and Ron will forever be your best friends._

"All right there, Granger?" A voice behind her asked. Both of the Hermione's turned to see the Weasley twins and Lee Jordan smiling at her.

Her younger self started to say yes when she noticed what they were carrying. "Are those fireworks?"

George grinned. "Indeed they are. Have to stock up before school starts. Imagine what Filch would think if we didn't greet him with our annual firework show in his office? The mere thought-"

"-The terror-", remarked Fred.

"-The devastation-"George continued.

"-The absolute horror." Fred finished.

Lee laughed at Hermione's open mouth. "Don't worry, they're only joking."

Fred scoffed. "That's what you think, mate." He turned to his brother and handed him the fireworks. "I'm going to see if they have more in stock. Granger, you coming?"

Hermione blinked at him bewildered. "Help you obtain fireworks that you'll use to bother the entire school with, including the professors?"

He nodded. "Isn't that I just said? C'mon."

Tiny Hermione was too stunned to do anything but oblige. The Weasley twin spoke to the shop owner who laughed, apparently used to the three boys ransacking his products. He told them to wait while he checked in the back.

"So what _are_ you planning on doing with the fireworks if I may ask? Really?" Hermione said.

"Well, we aren't lighting up Filch's office, I can tell you that much," Fred answered with a wink. He started looking up at the roof. "It wouldn't work in that small a space, anyway. A kitchen's one thing, but… If only there were fireworks that were smaller, not risking to burn the place down, but enough to give the people a bit of a scare…"

"Why don't you just make one yourselves?" Hermione suggested. "It wouldn't be too hard to make adjustments, maybe a simple _reducio_ charm I've read about would do the trick…"

Fred gave her a large grin. "My, my, Hermione Granger-"

She blushed and shook her head. "Forget I said that-I-I shouldn't have given you the idea-"

"George and I actually tried the _reducio_ our first year. It didn't quite do the trick, though."

"Oh." It was silent for a moment and little Hermione glanced around the shop. She saw Harry and Ron looking at prank Snitches that momentarily turned into some sort of green goo when caught. Frowning, she turned her attention back to Fred and was met with a toy snake staring at her, inches from her face.

"Fred!" she yelped. But after clutching her chest and catching her breath Hermione couldn't help but laugh. Fred laughed too.

"There we go," he simply said as she wiped happy tears out of her eyes.

"Oy, what are you doing to Hermione? Leave her alone." Ron approached them and gave Hermione a sympathetic look, as if to apologize for his older brother's behavior.

Fred was probably about to give him some sarcastic or mocking comment, so Hermione quickly interrupted.

"Fred was just showing me this nice stuffed toy, Ron. Are you feeling done? Harry?"

Harry, standing behind Ron, hadn't really been paying attention but snapped to when his name was mentioned. "Uh, yeah."

The girl straightened her robes. "Good, then we should leave if we want to look around some more before meeting our parents at Flourish and Blotts." The three of them headed for the exit. Hermione turned and looked at Fred. "See you later."

Young Hermione was gone too quick and therefore didn't see the brief smile Fred gave her, but old Hermione did.

The scenery changed and she now stood in a very crowded Gryffindor common room.

"Of all the stupid things to do. A flying car…Muggles saw them! They could have been hurt! Expelled!" young Hermione mumbled while Percy stood next to her, nodding in agreement. Harry and Ron had quickly made their way to the boy's dormitory, escaping both of their scolding eyes. For now, at least. The two exemplary students crossed their arms, clearly displeased while the rest of their house chose to cheer. _Cheer_!

Fred, George and Lee seemed to be egging the others on, as well. Real Hermione noted how her memory-self glared at them.

 _Oh boy…_

Percy excused himself and went to check on the first years; most of them not really understanding what was happening, but excited nonetheless. Hermione remembered how she had felt for Percy back then. By no means had she fancied him, no, no, no. But she had respected him. He was Perfect Prefect Percy. Someone who admired intellect as much as Hermione did. And she remembered that she wished Harry and Ron shared that thirst for knowledge. She loved that her friends had other attributes, bravery and kindness to name a few, but it was isolating at times. She could be talking about something she found utterly fascinating while the two of them would roll their eyes at each other, thinking she didn't notice. But she did.

The first night back at Hogwarts, she felt especially alone. She had waited, claimed a compartment for the three of them at the Hogwarts Express earlier that day, eager not to spend her second train ride by herself.

The first train ride she had gone from compartment to compartment, trying to distract herself, maybe make some new friends like her mother had told her to. She had tried helping Neville, she had tried passing Harry and Ron several times without seeming like a stalker. In hindsight, perhaps not the best plan she'd ever executed, but in the end it hadn't mattered. They were friends now.

However, when the train moved with neither of them coming to sit with her, she had strolled by several compartments asking for them. Fred and George had looked confused, thinking that they had been with her all along. When she found Percy he helped her ask around and then when they arrived at Hogwarts they found out what had happened.

'They left me alone to fly in a car!' she had thought. 'And did they bother asking me if I at least wanted to come along? No. Ugh, boys… They'll have some explaining to do in the morning.'

Small Hermione decided to call it in early, despite Parvati's half-hearted attempt to make her stay. She was tolerable before she made close friends with Lavender. Hermione hadn't really thought about how the other girl had tried to make friends with her. Even if it might only have been to get close to the famous Harry Potter or plain pity, Hermione felt it a shame she never noticed it when she was younger.

She did wonder why Fred had chosen this particular memory when he and his twin made themselves visible to her. She realized it had been the first time (of many to come) she gave the twins a piece of her mind.

"Oy, Fred! Would you look at that gloomy goose over there," George stage whispered a few paces away, blocking the path to the girls' dormitory.

"Why, George, how can anyone not be happy in such an occasion as this?"

"Unless you're Snape-"

"Or Filch-"

"Or Percy-"

Little Hermione let out a growl which startled the twins enough to shut up. It had been the final drop, after enduring a day of feeling miserable when really, she should be enjoying being back at Hogwarts, and Hermione finally snapped.

"Your brother is right, you know. And I hope he takes points from them, and gives them both a proper lecture. Godric knows I will. Now, if you don't mind," she said while knocking both of them out of her way.

When she disappeared out sight, the two of them looked at each other. Fred hooked his arm over his brother and led him towards the crowd again. "Dear me, seems like we have another Percy on or hands."

George 'tsk'ed. "And we thought that one was more than enough for the planet."

Fred hummed in agreement, but added, "Somehow, though, I've got the feeling Granger is going to end up being an even _bigger_ pain in our arses."

George looked at him in mock horror. "What ever should we do?"

Fred was about to say something when Angelina approached them and Hermione swore she saw a tiny shade of pink rise in his cheeks. George must have noticed as well for he escaped his brother's embrace and pushed the two of them together in a group hug.

Her surroundings dematerialized once again.

Hermione cursed under her breath when she arrived at the next scene. Why had Fred picked such horrible memories? First the one where she was being emotional and Fred basically called her Percy II, but now this one?

The event that gave Hermione her first glimpse of the horrible side of being a muggleborn witch; the prejudice that would haunt her until the war was over…

The Slytherin Quidditch team was showing off their new broomsticks while Draco Malfoy looked all too satisfied with the Gryffindor team's reaction. Hermione watched as her younger self and Ron made their way towards them and how her friend gaped as they learned Malfoy was the new team seeker and owner of a Nimbus Two Thousand and One.

"Good, aren't they?" said Malfoy smoothly. "But perhaps the Gryffindor team will be able to raise some gold and get new brooms, too. You could raffle off those Cleansweep Fives; I expect a museum would bid for them."

Hermione rolled her eyes as she once more watched the Slytherin team howl with laughter at Malfoy's pathetic excuse for a joke. She knew what was coming, and she had always been rather proud of her comeback. After all, Malfoy had to stoop real low in order to get the last word.

She watched her younger self tilt her head with as much attitude as she could muster. "At least no one on the Gryffindor team had to _buy_ their way in," she said sharply. " _They_ got in on pure talent."

The first time, she had been occupied watching Malfoy's smug little face drop and enjoy her brief victory. This time Hermione watched Fred. He had obviously chosen these memories for a reason, and she was determined to try and catch whatever it was she had missed to see the first time around. Otherwise, she would have figured it out already, wouldn't she?

As soon as tiny 'Mione had given her retort, Fred's face lit up. To be fair, every Gryffindor there had showed some kind of positive emotion. Ron had snorted loudly. But there was something about the way Fred looked at her, like he was stunned. But in a good way.

The mood quickly changed when Malfoy spat the word 'mudblood' at her. Hermione remembered feeling confused. She'd realized the word was bad, but didn't know what to do. How to react. And then she had felt a flutter in her stomach when Ron went to her defense, attempting to jinx Malfoy for _her_.

But she had never fully comprehended how much the others had done. Alicia Spinnet was shrieking her lungs out at the little blond. And the twins were held back by Flint, both wanting to physically harm Malfoy. Now it was Hermione's turn to look stunned. She'd have to thank George later (even though she wasn't sure how she would go about explaining to him why she suddenly brought up something that had occurred six years ago).

The sequence wasn't over yet, and she watched herself and Harry pull a slug-vomiting Ron away to Hagrid's.

Fred and George weren't attempting to attack Malfoy anymore, but Angelina and Katie had to calm Alicia down, who was still fuming.

"That little prat," she screamed once they were in the changing room. "How dare he even use that word? Not to mention _call_ someone-"

"Don't worry, Alicia, we'll get him later," Fred promised. He and George sat down on the benches, exhausted.

"Wish we could have gotten one punch in on his scrawny little git face, though."

"You know I despise being the voice of reason, Freddie-"

"-The voice of what now?"

"-But I do believe it's just as well. Imagine what Lucius Malfoy would have done if we had harmed his son?"

Fred slumped his shoulders. "Yeah, yeah. I reckon you're right. Glad Ron tried to jinx him at least."

"Who knew he had it in him?"

"Not anymore, though. The slugs found their way out now."

"Sluggie Ronniekins."

Angelina passed them and rolled her eyes. "You two…Why not be honest and tell your brother you're proud of him instead of making fun of him?"

The twins looked at her like she had grown two heads. They shook their own heads, their next word loud: "Never!"

"Hope she's all right though. Granger," Fred said once Angelina walked away.

"Didn't seem like she understood what was going on, so I suspect she'll be fine enough," said George distracted, looking for his school robes.

"I wonder if muggleborns know what they're in for when they enter our world. Pureblood, half-blood, who cares…"

"Not us, that much is certain," said George.

Fred looked at his brother and smiled. "Nope, not us." He then pulled something out from behind his back. "Looking for this, by the way?"

George snatched the black cloth from his brother. "Very funny."

"I thought so."

There was barely time to register how the changing room suddenly turned into a corridor before Hermione nearly slumped into a boy with red hair.

"Better not let Ron see you laugh, Hermione," Harry urged the brunette standing before him. "He seemed heavily traumatized."

"I'm sorry, it's just so funny. And every time I start thinking about it- I just-" She showed exactly what happened. Harry had to hold back a smile of his own as Hermione clutched her stomach, bent over in laughter.

Fred stopped walking through the corridor, looking curious to learn what made mini 'Mione laugh so much.

"I can't believe Fred turned the teddy bear into a spider, I mean- Pfft."

"I'm just happy you managed to keep it in when Ron told you about it. Quick! Compose yourself, he's coming." Sure enough, Ron was walking towards them, spotting Fred lurking behind one of the armored statues as he passed.

He looked up at his brother. "What are you doing?" His eyes squinted in suspicion.

Fred put on an air of innocence. "Nothing, dear brother. Just on my way to the library when I had to tie my shoelace."

Ron made a face but decided to let it go. The two of them approached the others. Hermione watched as her younger self had to bite her lip to prevent more laughter from escaping. Seeing both Ron and Fred there made it harder to not think about the teddy bear incident.

Fred seemed to sense she was on the verge of another attack, all she needed was a push.

"Well, I'll be heading for the library, gents. I hope you'll _bear_ with me _spidering_ off-I mean, wandering off."

He swaggered away, a satisfied grin on his face as he heard a loud giggle erupt behind him, while his brother mumbled, "Tosser."

A new sequence appeared.

Some people were whispering in the corner of the Gryffindor common room and Hermione quickly registered this particular memory being from the time students in Hogwarts suspected Harry of being the heir of Slytherin. She watched once more as Harry gripped his quill rather harshly, the tip almost breaking through the parchment of his Transfiguration's essay. Had they really thought he wouldn't hear them while he sat just at the other side of the room?

Ron's ears were tinged red but he looked at his friend as if to say 'Pay no attention to them, mate'.

Hermione watched herself glare at their house-seniors. Seniors! They were in fifth year, why would they bother gossiping about a second year student? Ridiculous. When one of them caught her staring, the whispering intensified.

Just as she considered sending some flames at the group, they were joined by two people.

"Hello there, Abernathy, Oswald and Temple! What are you all staring at?" Fred looked from the group to where Harry, Hermione and Ron sat (and where real Hermione stood). "Ah, I see! Don't worry, Harry told us he would be going after some Ravenclaw students next."

"That's right," chimed George. "No need to fret! Besides, he doesn't attack unless you bother him."

Fred winked at them. "Suggest you keep that in mind."

The group gaped at the twins, but they were already headed towards the table. Harry smiled slightly, his writing no longer forced, and Ron gave an approving nod, while young Hermione mouthed 'Thank you.'

A moment of blur, but hardly anything changed.

It was the Gryffindor common room again and Lee Jordan was rambling on about how the Slytherins needed to be thrown out of Hogwarts, saying that they were clearly at fault since no one from their house had been attacked.

 _Attacked? Oh right, the basilisk…_

Hermione tip toed around the crowd applauding in favour and approached Fred. He was uncharacteristically quiet, standing next to Harry, George and Ron.

 _I don't remember this at all…why this memory, Fred?_

No sooner had she thought it, when George leaned into Harry and whispered, "Percy's in shock." Hermione hadn't even noticed him and scanned the room. The prefect was sitting behind Lee, looking pale as a ghost.

"That Ravenclaw girl-Penelope Clearwater-"George continued but Hermione stopped listening.

 _Merlin's beard, this is after I got petrified._

She had met Penelope after discovering what the monster lurking in the Chamber of Secrets really was. The two of them had shared a mirror, scanning the corridor with it to make sure they would, as a worst case scenario, end up petrified rather than dead. And, though no one except for Ginny knew at the time, Penelope had been Percy's girlfriend.

Harry and Ron were whispering amongst themselves now, both looking rather upset.

 _My friends_ , Hermione thought affectionately. She knew they cared about her, but she had never been there to see their reactions regarding her petrification.

George, seemingly a bit distraught himself, was looking at his twin. He frowned, whispering, "Are you all right, Freddie?"

Fred nodded his head, not at all convincing. "Just thought these attacks had stopped till now," he whispered back. He clutched his arms to his stomach and frowned at the floor.

Hermione raised her hand when the scene shifted. Blinking, she shook her head furiously. What had she planned on doing with it?

Laughter interrupted her thoughts.

They were in the Hogwarts Express and the mood couldn't be more different than the previous memory had been. The compartment rang with merriment. Harry, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Fred and George shared their last hours together, before arriving at Kings Cross, in celebration.

Hermione tried to press herself against the window when she realized it didn't matter since everything and everyone would just go straight through her. And lucky that was. The twins decided to set off the last of their Filibuster fireworks and more than once did they fly through her.

The fireworks sizzled and exploded, everyone giving shrieks of delight and young Hermione had to lean in close to ask Fred how he'd done it.

"Done what?" he asked, not looking away from the display of colour.

"How did you manage to make them not blow the place up? This is amazing," she complimented. George set off yet another pair of fireworks as the last ones fizzled out. There was a loud boom and Ron nudged her arm to get her to look up and enjoy the show. She impatiently waved him off and faced Fred again, sitting opposite her. He was smirking.

"Just made some tweaks here and there," he said, ambiguously. He knew it annoyed her not to know and it showed by the expression she made.

 _I still don't know how they made most of their products…_ , real Hermione thought.

Mini 'Mione narrowed her eyes, understood that she wouldn't get an answer and leaned back and struck up a conversation with Ginny, who sat on her other side.

"I never did get to practice duelling properly," she told Ginny a few minutes later. "Millicent Bulstrode put me in a headlock just seconds into our duel."

"Maybe you could teach us?" Ginny said and turned to Fred and George, since they were older and more experienced. It looked like she first had been aiming to ask Harry but quickly reconsidered when a blush already had made it up his cheeks. The others pretended not to notice. Fred and George normally would have used this to tease Harry, but since he'd saved their sisters life, they apparently decided to be merciful.

Hermione blinked in surprise and shifted her stance. _I didn't notice this the last time. I just remember going through all the spells I'd read about used for defense in my head…_

They began disarming each other. Ron borrowed Harry's wand since none of them wanted to be at the receiving end of his _spellotaped_ one. It was evident that Harry was better than the others. Even Fred and George applauded him when he managed to disarm them.

Hermione cringed when she saw herself attempt it. After the fifth try the words were barely coherent as she lost her confidence. Harry tried to show her but she didn't quite seem to get the hang of it until Ron, charming as ever, teased her about being all talk. Angered, she shouted _Expelliarmus_ and Harry's wand flew across the room, while Fred slapped his brother on the shoulder for being rude. Ginny joined in, aiming for his head, and gave Hermione a bright smile which she returned.

And yet again it was over.

Hermione plunged out the Pensieve and had to sit down. She dug her hands into her mattress.

 _So, the memories are definitely about me. Blimey, I sound vain. But they do seem to be? Why is it making me nervous?_

The innocent happiness she'd had to relive hadn't helped either. She laid down on her bed with a heavy sigh, feeling mentally and emotionally exhausted.

Everything was so raw now. When they did find time to laugh it was far from the same as it had been in the memory. Hermione rubbed her eyes. But was that because of how they'd aged since back then or because something was missing?

 _Or someone…_

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~ o0o~

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 **A/N: And that was chapter 2! Hope you enjoyed and thank you to everyone who follows, favorites and reviews.  
**

 **Until next time!  
/Primrue**


	4. Dinner

**A/N: Pardon my French.**

Dinner

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~ o0o~

* * *

The Burrow welcomed Hermione with wide arms when she arrived for Sunday dinner the next day. Mrs. Weasley and Fleur were in the kitchen, preparing food and chatting along rather amicably. Both of them hugged the brunette tightly when Hermione entered the room, greeting her.

"I'm so glad you made it, mon amie. Ronald told us you weren't feeling well." Fleur looked at her concerned. When releasing Hermione from the hug she was still gripping her arms gently.

"Oh, no! Don't worry, Fleur. It wasn't anything with me- eh," she leaned closer, not wanting Mrs. Weasley, who resumed frying the meat in a saucer, muttering about how she would make it so delicious Harry would have to eat more than two servings this time, to overhear her next words. "Emptying Fred's room just brought back some memories-"Fleur had no idea how literal it was, but she seemed to understand.

Fleur held up a hand, "Say no more, cherie. I'm thankful every day for what we have left, but it is still difficult sometimes." She dropped her hands and smiled gently. "We'll fight through this though. And don't forget that we made them pay for what they did too." The last sentence turned her features dark for a moment and Hermione shuddered slightly as she remembered how Fleur had looked even scarier when they arrived at Shell Cottage earlier that year.

" _Je veux ils mort! Que pensent-ils qu'ils font?! Merde!" The blonde yelled in french as she took in the state Hermione was in after Malfoy Manor. She quickly calmed herself when she noticed how the girl shook, still soaked from the sea water._

" _Don't worry, petit. We'll make them pay for what they did." She helped Hermione into a new pair of robes and when she was tending to the arm, fresh with that awful word, Fleur repeated her previous words and held Hermione's gaze for the first time. "I promise."_

When teasing Fleur her sixth year, Hermione had somehow forgotten how Fleur had been chosen out of all of the eligible Beauxbatons students to compete in the Triwizard tournament. That day at Shell Cottage, Hermione was reminded of how dangerous the other witch could be. She was glad she had been on their side.

Hermione strode out of the kitchen and back into the sitting area. Andromeda Tonks was in the armchair, holding Teddy, and Harry watched in awe when Ginny reached over and pulled the little boy onto her own lap. With the two of them fussing over little Teddy Lupin, they really looked like the perfect picture of family.

 _Ten Galleons says they'll have a child before me and Ron…_

Immediately, she froze. What was she thinking? A child with Ronald Weasley? Of course, she'd fancied him since she was sixteen and been interested in him even longer, but to even think about having a child- and with him-

Not that she thought it impossible in the _far_ off future. But for a child to be conceived, you needed to do something first, and well… they hadn't. They'd been close a handful of times, but it never seemed like a good time and Hermione always felt like she was waiting for a sign.

 _Wait for what? You waited years for this boy to understand how he felt…_

She never understood how Lavender and Won-Won had managed to spend hours snogging each other's faces off. Hermione could barely spend more than a couple of seconds before becoming a blushing mess when she and Ron did it. When she and Viktor had kissed it hadn't been nearly as bad, what stopped her then was the fact she felt like she had better things to do. And Cormac had never even been an option.

She was startled out of her thoughts when a hand slipped into hers. "Hullo."

Hermione blushed. "Hi."

"Ron, 'Mione, come look at what Teddy did to his hair!" Ginny waved them over and Ron placed a tentative peck on her lips before leading them to his sister, best friend and his best friend's godson.

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~ o0o~

* * *

Dinner passed in its usual manner. People tried to keep it upbeat, Teddy was the center of attention, being the baby and all, and everyone ignored the grandfather clock that stood visible in the living room. The clock was very particular indeed and while still being useful, it hurt the family and friends to look at the golden hand that held the picture of Fred, pointed to 'Traveling'. It hadn't moved since the battle of Hogwarts.

A chill went down Hermione's spine when she thought of Fred's soul, stuck in the afterlife for so many months, still drifting between this world and the next. She wondered if she wanted it to move. Where would it end up? Or would it just fall off?

Without meaning to, she glanced at George. He was eating more than he had at previous dinners, which was a good sign. Maybe letting go a little had been good for him. She reminded herself to ask Ron on his progress with the apartment. He was supposed to spend his first night there after New Year's Day, right after Hermione returned to Hogwarts.

"How's the Auror training going, Harry," Mr. Weasley asked while stabbing a piece of potato onto his fork. "I hear it can get quite rough."

Harry hurried to swallow his food and explained part of his current assignments, keeping it vague. "I can't reveal too much, though. Sorry."

"No need to apologize, dear," Andromeda assured. "I remember spending hours trying to get information out of Nymphadora, but they hold a tight leash on you, the ministry. I just hope you don't get too much special treatment," she winked. "Auror is a title that needs to be earned."

Harry grinned, but Mrs. Weasley was not as amused. "If anyone has earned it, it's _this_ boy, Andromeda."

"Oh, Molly, come now, I only meant-"

"Who's ready for dessert?" Fleur interrupted. Bill volunteered to help her take away the plates, while everyone shot her appreciative glances.

Hermione excused herself, needing to use the bathroom. She ascended the creaking stairs, entered the bathroom and took a deep breath.

 _These dinners can be so exhausting, thank god I'm spending Christmas at my parents'…_

She did her business, washed her hands, splashed some water on her face, dried off and started heading down to join the others again.

When she passed one of the rooms on her way down, however, she stopped.

It hadn't changed at all.

Hermione approached it and without really knowing what she was doing, she opened the door. The lingering smell of gunpowder overwhelmed her, and something faint in the air made her heart ache.

Looking through the memories so far had brought something to the surface, something she never knew existed. She was sad about Fred being gone, not just because he was part of the Weasley's and losing him made them sad. It wasn't only because he had made people happy. The thing, Hermione realized, was that he had made _her_ happy. For all his mischief making and pranks, few made her laugh like he had. It was a thing she hadn't even reflected upon until now.

With a sigh, she turned and closed the door, not sure what she had expected to find.

"What are you doing, Granger?"

Her voice caught in her throat as she turned and faced George. He looked extremely puzzled.

"I-I-"

Heat rose to her cheeks and neck as his eyebrows continued to travel farther and farther up.

"Um, I was just-it smelled of gunpowder and so I-"

Suddenly he placed his hand on her shoulder and rubbed it slightly. "It's okay, I think I understand. Just make sure Ron doesn't catch you next time." He smiled at her and it was horrible that the first time in so long she saw him smile, it had to be this sad. He let her go and she was on her second step down when she swore she heard him mumble to himself; "Talk about awful timing for her to realize."

 _Realize what?_

* * *

~ o0o~

* * *

Ginny cornered her after dessert when the two of them went into her room. The redhead had claimed she needed Hermione's help getting something. It was hardly subtle, so Hermione really only had herself to blame when she was interrogated.

Hands on her hips and a glare closely resembling her mother's, Ginny ordered her to spill her secret.

"What are you talking about?" Hermione was once again this evening finding herself genuinely confused. It was not a feeling she liked nor cared to grow accustomed to.

"Why has my brother been looking at you all night with sad eyes?"

"Ron's sad?"

"Not that one. The one missing an ear, obviously."

George had been watching her? She hadn't noticed. Of course, during the last couple of days, Hermione had grown to realize she didn't notice a lot of things.

"Did you say something to him? Why is he sad again? He was finally getting better-"

"Oh, Ginny, no! I didn't do anything to George if that's what you're saying. And also, why would you think I would?"

The stern look dropped and Ginny sighed. "Sorry, just getting overprotective I think. He hasn't been the same for a long time and I hoped that his recent behaviour- I hope you understand I was simply afraid of anything ruining that."

Hermione felt guilty. She knew her going to the twins' old room had set something off in George and she felt bad that the youngest Weasley had to shoulder the worry of needing to protect her elder sibling from harm. "I understand, Gin. Really, I do," she waved her hand dismissively. "I just think he reckons I'm weird, that's all."

"Weird? Why?"

"Well, I sort of sneaked into his and Fred's old room. I-"How would she explain why she'd walked in there? She recalled telling George something about gunpowder. "It smelled like gunpowder when I passed the door and I wanted to make sure nothing was about to detonate inside."

Ginny smiled. "Did you forget their room always smells like that? Mom tried for the longest time to get rid of it, but the smell is as much part of the house as the ghoul in Ron's room is."

They laughed a little. "Let's join the others for a game of Exploding Snap," Ginny said. "I have a feeling Harry wants to take his mind of work for a while."

"Sure."

The girls took a step out towards the door.

"Speaking of Harry-"Ginny stopped walking and blushed. "I found something at his place the other day."

Hermione grimaced and faced her. "Do I really want to hear this? He's like my brother, you know-"

"Merlin, Hermione! That's not what- I found a _ring_!"

It was silent for a moment as Hermione processed this new information.

"You're joking?" she asked finally.

Ginny frowned now; she seemed to have expected a different reaction from her friend.

"Why would I?"

The brunette hurried to explain, not wanting her to misunderstand. "I'm not saying it's not great news, it's just… well… you're so young!"

Ginny laughed at this and Hermione had to elbow the witch to stop her from further teasing her. They had been through war and the idea that they still could be considered too young to marry felt strange to the redhead. "I suppose Ron will have to wait a long time for your hand, won't he?"

"My hand doesn't belong to anyone else but me, thank you very much Ginevra." It was Ginny's turn to grimace. "Sorry," Hermione said, "it's just that I can't see myself settling down and starting a family just yet. I want to finish my N.E.W.T.s and get a career going first."

"Wouldn't have expected anything less from you, Granger. But," Ginny paused, "don't forget you have to let yourself live a little. Enjoy being together and in love."

At this Hermione widened her eyes. Ginny narrowed her own at the brunette, "You _do_ love him, don't you?"

"I have fancied your brother since I was sixteen, Ginny."

"That's not an answer, Hermione."

Hermione fidgeted with the end of her sleeve. "We haven't said anything, if that's what you mean. I mean, I care for him deeply, but _love_ …Love is something that builds as time goes on, isn't it? It doesn't just happen."

Ginny shook her head in disbelief. "After all these years of watching the two of you pine after each other and you still aren't sure? Hermione, if you don't know by now, then maybe you don't love him the way you think you do."

"That's ridiculous, Ginny. Forget what I said, I do love Ronald. I do." She sounded like she was trying to convince herself more than the other girl.

The redhead crossed her arms. "Okay, say you do love him. But is it the love you have for a friend and family, or a lover?" Both girls blushed. "I can't believe I'm actually talking about my brother's love life…" She looked like she'd swallowed an earwax flavoured _Bertie Botts Every Flavour Bean._

Hermione, meanwhile, bore a look of utmost distress. This conversation confused her badly. "I've fancied him for so long- what else would it be now if not love?"

Ginny looked at her, sympathy etched on her freckled face. "Just because you've fancied someone since you were young, doesn't mean you have to spend the rest of your life with them."

Hermione snorted. "You're one to talk."

The redhead ignored her. "All I'm saying is that I want the best for both of you, and it would do you well to consider how you truly feel about him before years pass and you're standing at Kings Cross with your kids, wondering if you're truly happy with how your life turned out. It wouldn't be fair to you, nor would it be fair to Ron."

And with that she hugged the brunette, noticing the latter's stiff shoulders, before taking her hand, leading them to the living room.

* * *

~ o0o~

* * *

The evening ended with tea and quiet in the Burrow. No game of Exploding Snap happened, the atmosphere not really suitable for the loud game. Ginny's words still rung in Hermione's head as she sat down with a book in hand. She had read the same sentence fifteen times now, but it refused to stick in her mind, it was too occupied.

Was Ginny right? Was it possible she wouldn't have to spend the rest of her life with Ron just because part of her felt like they owed it to themselves after so many years of pining after each other? She did love Ron, she knew she did. But the way Ginny and Harry loved one another was far from the platonic one she _now_ suspected she felt for Ron. They kissed and it was nice. But shouldn't it be more than nice?

For a while, she suspected she might just be a person who didn't like getting physical. But that wouldn't be right either. Viktor's kisses had sent tingles around her body, and she never felt the urge to pull away to blush the way she did with Ron. Sure, she preferred studying at the time over snogging in an abandoned classroom, but that might have had more to do with her priorities than anything else. And while she cared for him, she never fancied Viktor the way she'd fancied Ron, making it odd that she'd felt more comfortable kissing the Bulgarian than her childhood crush.

The whole thing made her head spin.

 _What is happening to me? I have to focus on this book if I want to do well on my Charms N.E.W.T.s ! I can't spend my time daydreaming about kissing and boys like some silly schoolgirl._

Nevertheless, her attention refused to remain on the letters donning the pages of her heavy tome. Instead, it seemed to drift to the couple seated on a sofa opposite Percy. The three of them were engaged in polite conversation, but from where she sat, Hermione could see the way Bill's thumb would absentmindedly rub circles on Fleur's arm, while she in turn would smile at him again and again, as if she'd never seen anything more beautiful than his scarred face.

She glanced at another trio, currently intrigued by an escapee chocolate frog, jumping around in a circle. Ron argued they put an end to its misery, while Harry and Ginny protested that it was defect and they therefore had no idea what else could be wrong with it. None of them dared eating it.

Ron, feeling her stare, looked up and gave her a shy grin.

What used to make her feel giddy and warm inside only punched her gut with guilt. He was so clueless and innocent to the inner workings of her mind and Hermione felt dirty.

Before he could get the impression she was done with her reading, she raised the book to hide her face, after shooting him an apologetic smile that didn't reach her eyes.

It was ten in the evening when she left the Weasley's and Harry (Andromeda had gone to put Teddy to bed hours ago).

' _It wouldn't be fair to you, nor would it be fair to Ron.'_ Ginny's voice echoed in her head.

She was confused but to this Hermione had to agree. It wasn't fair to either of them. She would have to figure this out.

But not today.

She needed to not think about it for a while, she needed a distraction.

Good thing there were some vials waiting to be seen when she Apparated home.

* * *

~ o0o~

* * *

 **A/N:**

 **Confession time: I do not like Ron and Hermione together. Nevertheless, I don't want to bash on Ron, so despite this being a Hermione/Fred, the two of them are in an okay relationship (for now moahaha….).  
And I always had a soft spot for Hermione/Krum, and it felt ridiculous she would chose Ron over a kind, smart (he was the best student at Durmstrang, I dare you to say he wasn't smart), athletic, well-mannered Quidditch star, who was the first boy to treat her as a woman and not a freaking encyclopaedia/homework maker…And Krum was still interested in her when they met at Fleur and Bill's wedding! I mean, honestly…**

 **Still, the best choice for her would be Fred. Sighs…**

 **And also, I studied french for four years, but haven't written french in yeeeeaaars so I'm still not sure if the french Fleur spoke is correct, so I apologize again.**

 **Enough rambling!**

 **Thank you all who followed, reviewed and favorited! I can't explain how happy it makes me to see so many liking this story!  
Please continue reviewing! **

**Until next time!  
/Primrue**


	5. Third Year

Disclaimer: I do not own anything.

Third year

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~o0o~

* * *

"All right, Percy, you go now. Where's Ginny?" Mrs. Weasley turned around, scanning the station for her daughter.

Behind her, twelve year old Ginny Weasley piped up. "Mum, I'm right here."

"Oh, sorry, dear. Join your brother to run through the barrier. Your father and Harry are already through." The Weasley matriarch ushered her two children forward. The others waited as they watched Ginny and Percy sprint through the wall to Platform Nine and Three-quarters.

"Ron, George, you're up."

The two brothers decided to make it a race who got there first, and almost collided with a muggle on their way.

"Boys! Careful!" Mrs. Weasley shrieked, but they were out of sight as soon as the words left her mouth.

Hermione stood once again in one of Fred's memories, taking it all in. The weather was pleasant out, her younger self sported a rather nice tan she'd got from her vacation in France, and she was happy to have this distraction. Seeing Ron, even if only a memory of him, twisted a knot in her stomach. She knew she had some thinking to do, but not now.

As soon as she had left the Burrow in real life, she'd put on her comfortable pyjamas, brushed her teeth and while her parents thought she'd been going to bed, she'd actually pulled out her Pensieve and emptied another vial into it.

"Crookshanks, calm down. We'll be on the train soon enough and I'll let you out." Memory Hermione was comforting their cat, currently anxious in the wicker basket. "It's all right."

Fred peeked into the basket. "Can't get enough of us gingers, can you, Granger?" Crookshanks seemed to settle down a little when the twin came closer. "Thought you'd have enough to last a lifetime, what with my whole family of redheads."

Soon-to-be fourteen year old Hermione peered up into his face, the edge of her lips tugging slightly upwards.

"Fred, Hermione, what's taking you so long? Go on now!"

At the sound of his mother voice, Fred straightened up and nodded for Hermione to follow him through the crowd. She kept an eye on her cat, careful not to shake the basket too much, but kept up with Fred as best she could. He was fast, his strides bigger than hers, but seemed to slow down just enough for her to stay by his side. Hermione watched the scene amused. It wasn't often someone had to hold back so she could catch up, it was usually the other way around.

They arrived at the platform, Mrs. Weasley right behind them. After clearing away their trunks they crowded together and received hugs from her, one after another. Harry got two.

Mr. Weasley then pulled Harry aside (to warn him about not to look for Sirius, Hermione realised with a start).

The rest of them remained standing in a circle around Mrs. Weasley as she handed them sandwiches for the journey. Memory Hermione accidentally got two, and absentmindedly handed one of them to the person on her left, namely Fred.

"He just got one, Hermione," Ron complained. "If you don't want it, I'll take it. No fair if he gets two."

She turned towards her friend, her gaze shifting awkwardly from side to side, as though not able to believe the nonsense she'd just heard. "But if I hand it to you, _you'll_ have two." She sighed. "Besides, it was corned beef and I thought you didn't like corned beef. I know Fred likes it so I figured-"

Ron wasn't listening anymore. "Mum, I thought you said they weren't corned beef?"

"Sorry, dear, I meant _yours_ wasn't beef. Now stop fussing like a baby and all of you; get on the train!" His mother wore an impatient look that told him his only option was to oblige. "Arthur!"

Her husband called back to his wife from where he and Harry stood and assured her Harry would be joining them shortly.

The rest of them made their way to board the train.

Before leaving with George to find their friend Lee, Fred thanked Hermione for the sandwich.

"You're welcome," she replied earnestly.

Since this was Fred's memory, real Hermione followed the twins rather than watch herself, Ron and Harry find themselves in the same compartment as Remus. The thought of her old Professor being alive in this memory felt strange.

 _It's so unfair. Teddy won't have any memories of his own father, while we have years' worth…_

The twins (and real Hermione) found Lee, Alicia and Angelina lounging comfortably in another compartment, discussing their future Quidditch matches that term.

"The first one will be Gryffindor versus Slytherin! I'm going to enjoy making that Malfoy kid suffer," Alicia announced pleased. "Oh, hiya, Fred and George!"

"Hello," they greeted her back in unison. The others made room for their newly arrived friends who joined in on the conversation.

"You know, Alicia, don't take this the wrong way, but sometimes it scares me how someone so sweet can hold grudges like you do," George said.

Alicia who was just about to take a bite out of her apple, stopped midway and scrunched her nose at him. "Don't tell me you've forgotten what he did, George?"

"'Course not. Freddie and I have actually been working all summer on a plan to get our revenge undetected. Ain't that right, Fred?"

Fred smiled wickedly. "Indeed we have. Can't tell you much though," Angelina rolled her eyes. "Seeing as it's still heavily under development."

He reached out to stop Lee from grabbing something off his lap.

"What? You know I love your mother's sandwiches."

"Well, maybe you could owl and ask her to make you some, mate. But keep your mitts off these, however, if you'd like to keep them."

"Dear me, Fred, if I didn't know any better I'd say your girlfriend made you those," Alicia teased. Neither he nor Angelina looked amused by this, and George was giving his brother the strangest look.

Suddenly Hermione felt time jump forwards and all she could see was a dark hooded cloak pass by them.

 _Dementors_.

Even though it was a memory, she couldn't fight the shivers that travelled along her spine and the cold forming in her chest.

"What the bloody hell was that?" Fred exclaimed.

He looked down to the floor where Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle had stumbled in. They were shaking and shivering; all blood drained from their faces. The sight seemed to please the Gryffindors.

"I love karma," Alicia stammered, catching her breath.

George leaned in and told his brother that they might not need their revenge plot after all.

The scene shifted.

"You needed Stink Pellets this bad, Freddie?"

George was rubbing his hands together, his cheeks red from the wind blowing outside, as they entered Zonko's Joke Shop. He was looking at his brother, waiting for an answer, but none came. Instead, Fred made his way further into the shop, not really listening.

"We could have been at the castle, hanging out with the girls and Lee, _warm_ and cozy in front of the fire," George continued. "Can we at least get some Butterbeer before my fingers fall off?"

Fred chuckled. "Brother, sometimes it's like you forget that we're wizards. Just cast a warming spell."

It was George's time to look amused. "And sometimes, it's like you forget we're _underage_."

Fred threw him a look as if to say 'When has that ever stopped us before?'. He continued scanning the shelves, pushing through the crowds of overly excited third years. Judging by the familiar faces and how they seemed entranced by their surroundings, Hermione guessed it was their first time in the wizard village.

"And to answer your question, George, yes. I am almost out of Stink Pellets. I told you this before. You know this." Fred said impatiently.

"All I _know_ is that Ron mentioned he and Granger were going to Hogsmeade and all of a sudden, you are telling everyone you're in need of new Stink Pellets." He looked up from the tin of Hiccough Sweets he was holding and searched his brother's face to see his reaction.

"Maybe I was simply reminded by the presence of Ronald's horrid smell that I needed to stink down Filch's office some more?"

This made Hermione snicker. She immediately felt guilty.

George was not laughing and while putting the Hiccough Sweets back on its shelf, he suggested, almost lazily, "Or maybe you didn't like the idea of Granger and Ron walking around alone, without Harry as their chaperone?"

Fred and Hermione gaped at him. "Where did that come from?" Fred asked, baffled.

"I'm more observant than you give me credit for," George stated casually. "I'm not going to make you answer my other question, just answer me one thing, _honestly_ , and I'll never bring it up again."

Fred's eyebrows were pulled together in confusion. "Go on, then."

George looked around and in a hushed whisper, afraid someone might overhear, he asked, "Do you fancy Granger?"

Hermione stopped breathing.

 _What the bloody ruddy Merlin's beard…?!_

She needed to sit down, she needed air, she needed…She needed _not_ to have heard this…Was this a joke? Or even worse, was this why Fred had left her these memories? Because he'd fancied her? She didn't even know what to make of that idea.

A moment passed and she realized Fred hadn't answered yet. He looked at his brother, eyes wide, posture stiff and his mouth slightly open. Hermione feared the worst when a loud, earsplitting laughter erupted from him and he smacked his brother on the arm. Fred wiped the corner of his eye. "No, George, I do not."

Fred calmed down, his shoulders no longer shaking and cleared his throat, smiling. "Are we done now?"

Something that had been very clear ever since Hermione had got to know the twins was that no matter how many pranks they pulled, or how many lies they told or convinced others; they never did it to each other. Therefore, George didn't doubt his brother for a second when that was the answer he gave. And neither did Hermione.

"Yeah, we're done," George smiled back. A minute later they were grabbing several boxes of Stink Pellets and strutting to the register to pay for them.

"This should be enough for a while I think," Fred nodded approvingly. "What'd you reckon, George?"

His twin was looking at the entrance, a smirk on his freckled face. "Speak of the devil."

Ron and mini 'Mione just entered the shop.

"…and he appears," Fred finished for his brother and snorted. "Honestly, it's not far from the truth. For all we know, ickle Ronniekins-"

"Hi!" Hermione's younger self greeted them. Her tan long faded, hair windswept, making it look crazier than usual, and cheeks rosy from the weather. Ron walked right behind her, not looking as pleased to see his brothers as Hermione did.

"Hello," the twins chorused.

"Enjoying your first trip to Hogsmeade, children?" George asked.

Hermione gave a smile that stretched from ear to ear. "Very much. It's all so fascinating! And the history of this village is incredible," they could tell she was about to recite facts she'd learned about Hogsmeade from the books she'd read, so Ron was quick to interrupt.

"What are you lot up to then?"

Fred nodded to the boxes of Stink Pellets in his arms. Hermione let her frown, brought forward by Ron's earlier interruption, disappear. "Oh, right, you said you were almost running out those." She eyed them cautiously. "Although I'd prefer not knowing what you were planning on doing with them, I would like to ask you to keep them away from the girls' dormitory and the library."

Fred grinned. "No worries, Granger. We have no plans on disturbing your studies. Which are all of them, from what I hear."

Ron nodded. "She's mental, I don't even know how she does it. Most of the classes are at the same time-"

Hermione watched herself drag Ron at his sleeve, away from the twins, interrupting _him_ this time. "Let's not keep your brothers, I'm sure they have more important things to tend to."

"Blimey, 'Mione! You can let go of my arm."

She didn't turn back to see the amused expressions on Fred and George's faces. "Wonder what that was all about," said George.

"Not sure," said Fred. "But let's hurry up and pay for these, and head back to the castle. I'm worried about Lee, alone with all those ladies."

George snickered. "Yes, _poor_ Lee."

The comfort of walls disappeared and the new scene took place on the Quidditch pitch.

Oliver Wood called for a time-out. Fred landed on the muddy ground with some difficulty (Hermione once again on the same broom sitting behind him) as the wind howled and rain seeped through the fabric of their clothes. Hermione was especially glad that this memory took place on the ground. Not that she was rather fond of flying at all, but at least the first year match's weather had been calmer.

The Gryffindor team discussed tactics when she saw herself hurrying to Harry's side.

"I've an idea, Harry! Give me your glasses, quick!" she said, smiling.

Real Hermione turned to Fred who looked intrigued. She glanced at the whole team and realized how intently they observed her younger self wave her wand over Harry's glasses. " _Impervius!"_

"There! They'll repel water!" she explained before heading back to the crowd, while Wood called after her.

"Brilliant!" The Gryffindor team captain turned to his team members. "Okay, team, let's go for it!"

Before taking off, George elbowed his brother. "Lucky you don't fancy Granger, Freddie, because I think Wood was ready to kiss her right then and there."

"Shut it, you." Fred said shaking his head while he kicked off the ground.

The scene shifted and Hermione silently thanked Fred for making the last one short. It was late in the Gryffindor common room. Fred was sitting by the fire, reading. Hermione looked around, expecting to find Lee or George nearby, but the common room was scarce on people.

 _Odd…_

Two voices were heard entering through the portrait hole.

"-it'll be fine, Hermione. We'll visit him in the morning."

"I know, it's just that he seemed so upset. I wish I could fix his broom for him, but even Madam Hooch told us it was beyond repair."

"It'll take a while but he'll get over it," Ron assured her as they crossed the common room. "I'm going upstairs. Dean, Seamus and Neville probably want to hear about what happened."

He left and Fred briefly looked up. He was startled when he saw Hermione sit down on the floor next to his armchair.

"Hi, Fred." She removed her still soaking robe and inched closer to the fireplace. "I just needed to warm up a bit, sorry if I disturbed your reading."

"No worries, Granger," he flipped a page, brows furrowed, his voice distracted. "I was only researching a potion."

Hermione recalled how surprised she'd been at the twin's seriousness (not to mention seeing him read a book). Her younger self's expression mirrored how her train of thought had gone that evening; eyebrows raised, with a hint of amazement. Hermione never had been very good at concealing her emotions.

"I wanted to thank you for what you said to Harry, by the way."

"Hm?"

"The bit about him being the best Seeker the team's ever had, and how he shouldn't beat himself up over losing to Hufflepuff? I think it helped."

Fred glanced up from his book, a small and genuine smile on his lips. So unlike his usual mischievous or sarcastic ones. "No problem. Didn't think of it much. It's all true."

'Mione rolled her eyes. "Still. Thank you."

They sat there in comfortable silence for a while. The only sound either from his pages turning or the crackling fire, warming her drenched clothes.

Hermione wondered why he had picked this memory. Was there something else happening that she had missed? As far as she knew, they had spent ten minutes like this after their conversation and then she got up to bed.

She decided to investigate, leaning over Fred's shoulder to look at what he was reading. Perhaps he'd lied and not been researching potions at all. No such luck, however. He was indeed reading a book on potions.

 _Then what am I doing here? Nothing's happening…_

After another painful, uneventful five minutes mini 'Mione told Fred she'd warmed up and bade him good night.

"G'night. Oh wait, you forgot your robe!"

He hurriedly reached down and picked the clothing up from the floor, and was about to hand it to her when something slipped out of the pockets. A glitter of gold shimmered against the scarlet carpet.

"Oh, Merlin!" Hermione quickly picked it up before Fred got a chance to recognize what it was. "Er-my necklace must've slipped off. It appears to be fine. Thank goodness or McGon-"she stopped. "I mean, mother would have killed me. Thank you, Fred. Good night!"

 _I can't believe how non-discreet I was about the time turner…_

She watched herself snatch the robe from Fred's hand, and in her panic, not noticing that they'd touched. Fred stared after Hermione as she escaped to the girls' dormitory, clutching his hand.

George appeared soon after, looking newly showered and sat down on the sofa next to his twin's armchair. "Why so glum, chum?"

His brother looked up from the hand that had brushed Hermione's and let out a deep breath. "Just wishing you'd never said anything."

"Said what? I say a lot of things. Not nearly as much as _you_ -"

"Forget it," he grunted.

The next scenes came like a montage, one after another at great speed. There were several ones where Hermione snapped at people trying to talk to her or interrupt her otherwise, while she studied in a corner in Gryffindor common room. Fred avoided going near her in every single one. Others were just Fred avoiding her overall.

 _I do look pretty horrifying, have to admit…But I was so stressed…,_ she thought, and added, _coward…_

Then came one that was longer than the previous, which barely had been more than glimpses. It stood still long enough for Hermione to properly take in her surroundings. Snow covered the grounds outside and the windows were frosted with white. Fred walked with Angelina and George down a corridor. Angelina suddenly remembered she needed to go to the library and asked the twins to join her. After many flourished bows and claims to own up to their gentlemanly reputation-Hermione laughed at this- the three of them finally headed for the library.

After passing through some bookshelves, Angelina came to an abrupt halt. "On second thought, I think I'll manage. We didn't really need to reference ' _The Magical History of Scandinavian Maras and other creatures'_ , did we?"

"Ange, what are you talking about? That is the entire essay-"George, who had been towering over Angelina, attempting to go around her, also stopped in his tracks. "Although," he continued in a lower voice. "I think I like living too much to risk it over this one essay."

Fred, standing last in their three-man line, grew impatient. "What are you two on about?"

"Ssssh!"

He recoiled as his friend and brother, fingers on their mouths, turned to glare at him.

"Quiet down or you'll wake Cerberus."

George laughed softly at Angelina's joke.

Fred gaped at them like they'd both lost their marbles. "Seriously- sorry, I'll keep it down- _seriously_ , though, what's gotten into you two?"

"You know, Ange," George started, clearly up to something. "I think Freddie here might be Gryffindor enough for the task."

Angelina quickly caught on. "Oh, yeah, really? I don't know, it's pretty dangerous…"

George's smile grew wide. Hermione tried to remember when she'd seen it this bright last…

"Obviously, but my brother here isn't one to deny a quest, and especially not when a fair maiden is in distress."

Angelina scoffed.

"Honestly, what is-"Fred walked past them and now he too froze. He tried to backtrack but the other two quickly stopped him. "G'eroff me, let me through," he hissed.

Hermione finally treaded through them, eager to learn what it was that made three nearly grown Gryffindors tremble with fear. The sight made her giggle.

 _Surely, they can't be worried about this...?_

By a table, next to the bookshelf harboring the book Angelina required, slept a fourteen year old Hermione Granger. Her face was hidden in her arms, on top of a heap of open books.

"Fred, please, I really need that book. I wouldn't ask if I didn't desperately need it. _Please_."

Being a Weasley twin, he was useless against the Gryffindor Chaser's brown eyes.

"Fine," he relented. "But you owe me."

"I may be desperate, but I'm not stupid, Weasley. As if I'd want to be owing you anything."

"Did you want that book or not?"

She fell silent and Fred tip toed to the bookshelf. He managed to find the tome within a minute and carefully slid it into his hands. He sighed in relief.

"Hey, there you are! I was looking for you everywhere!"

"Lee! Ssssh!"

But it was too late. Hermione stirred at the sound of all the voices (and Madam Pince's scolding that followed). Fred panicked and dropped the book.

"Wait for me-"

But his friends and brother were already nowhere to be seen.

"Fred?" croaked a voice. "What are you doing- oh right. I'm in the library."

Fred picked up the book and clutched it to his side.

"All right there, Granger?" he asked as if approaching a hippogriff, one wrong and insulting move and she would rip his chest open.

She rubbed her bloodshot eyes. "Yes, I just- I just forgot I was in the library and not sleeping in my dorm."

Fred's gaze softened.

"May I?" he gestured to the empty chair and seated himself next to her when she nodded. "I'm not telling you to slow down, because you wouldn't be Hermione Granger if you did." Hermione managed to muster a blush and so did real Hermione. "But at least get a good night's sleep, yeah?"

Mini 'Mione took a deep breath, eyes glassy from unshed tears. "Sorry, yeah, I'm a bit sleep deprived." She cleared her throat and blinked her eyes. "But, I need time to study, so that's that." She turned to her pile of books, trying to organize them.

Real Hermione noticed the concern etched on Fred's face as he furrowed his brows, and felt something flutter inside her stomach.

 _What the bloody hell was that? Flutter? Nothing should be fluttering._

Fred sighed, interrupting Hermione's inner scolding, and stood up to leave. He looked down at the memory brunette. "You're impossible." He sighed again, but this time softly.

"Hm?"

"Nothing. See you later, Granger."

"Bye, Fred."

She didn't look up once.

Another quick memory followed of Hermione rising from the table and stomping away from Harry in the Great Hall; her hair on end and her shrill voice echoing to where Fred and George sat a bit further away.

"- Firebolt and now Scabbers, everything's my fault, isn't it!"

She rushed past the twins and stormed out.

"Blimey," said George. "All of this over a rat? I know he was Ron's but he never did treasure him much before he died, did he?"

"Perhaps we should talk some sense into him," Fred suggested. "Our little brother has let this go on long enough and I doubt Granger has much patience left."

There was another change in scenery.

"All he did was eat and sleep, Ron, you said it yourself," said George.

The twins were trying to make Ron forget about losing Scabbers, convincing him that he could just get a new rat and that being eaten by Crookshanks had probably been the best way to go for an old rat like him.

While a part of Hermione was disgusted at the memory of Peter Pettigrew hiding out somewhere in Hogwarts, still alive, she was also pleasantly surprised the twins had tried to talk some sense into Ron. Not that she thought it had been for her, no…Even so, she added this to the list of things she'd thank George for.

The memory changed again.

"Fred, George! Did you hear the news?" Ginny was beaming as she practically skipped to where they sat in the common room.

"Hi, sis'", said George.

"What news?" Fred asked.

"Well, I heard it from some first years, who heard it from some fourth years, who heard it from Seamus, who heard it from the other third years, but I don't think they were lying-"

"Gin, you're rambling. What did Harry do now?"

Their sister scowled as a flush of red crept up her cheeks. "It's- it's not about H-Harry."

George raised his eyebrows. "That's a first."

"I'll say."

Ginny ignored them.

"Anyway, I heard from some first years that during the third years' Magical Creature lesson with the Slytherins," The twins snorted at the mere mention of the other house. "Malfoy was insulting Hagrid so much that Hermione snapped. She _slapped_ him. And apparently she pulled her wand out before either of his cronies could do anything about it."

Her older brothers gawked.

"Ron had to hold her back," she continued, satisfied that her news had had the impact it did.

"She's bloody brilliant, she is," Fred stated, looking awestruck.

George glanced at his brother. "Ginny, would you mind leaving me alone with Forge. Just for a moment."

Ginny looked at them dubiously but shrugged and stepped away. George turned to Fred.

"Okay, I believed you when you told me before Christmas that you didn't fancy Granger- hang on, listen- I believed you. But it's been months and I was just wondering if things might have…changed?"

Fred started shaking his head, seeming prepared to joke it off this time as well, but he stopped. "I don't- I don't know."

George waited.

"I suppose, I find her interesting. But _fancy_? _Granger_? And she's younger than us, and a friend of our brother's…"

His twin patted him on the shoulder. "It's even worse than I thought…And here I suspected since our first year that you and Ange were going to hit it off."

Fred shook out of his confusion and recovered. He smirked. "We shared _one_ kiss last year. Believe me, if it was meant to be it would have happened by now."

"I thought you were someone who took matters in his own hands, or have all these years of pranks all been just a lie?" George feigned hurt.

A huff of air escaped Fred, who smiled.

His brother continued, serious now, "If you're not sure about Granger then just wait it out. Maybe it's just a small, temporary thing. Don't fret too much over it, it doesn't suit you."

Fred considered this. "All right, I'll wait it out and see. Probably not more than being impressed over her slapping Malfoy, anyway."

George looked like he seriously doubted this, but seemed to think that this way of reasoning helped his brother, and let it be. "Right."

* * *

~o0o~

* * *

 **Hello, everyone!**

 **Thank you so much for reading chapter four! Thank you also to all the people who follow, review and favorite this story, you guys are awesome!**

 **Please leave a review, I love reading them!**

 **Until next time!**

 **/Primrue**


	6. Talking

Talking

* * *

~o0o~

* * *

Ronald Bilius Weasley was confused. Granted, he was used to the feeling, but it had never been this bad.

For the past few days he'd been occupied with moving into his brother's flat and arranging the shop. It hadn't been re-opened for long, but it was clear their business would again be thriving under the care of the Weasley brothers. This time, of course, it was a different set of brothers.

While Ron and Fred experienced a difficult relationship even during the best of times, what with Ron's insecure nature and Fred and George's constant teasing, there were no doubts that he'd loved his older brother. It pained him to move his things into cardboard boxes. It pained him to remove the pictures and posters on Fred's walls-now _his_ walls- and it pained him most to catch George avoid his own reflection like it was You-Know-Who himself.

Now, though, all of that was momentarily overshadowed by his girlfriend's strange behaviour. Ron had had his fair share of exposure to Hermione's mood-swings and erratic behaviour, but most of the time he'd have a slightest inkling as to why she was acting the way she was. Or he'd have Harry help him figure it out.

This time, even Harry had no idea what was going on. He'd consulted his best friend earlier today, hoping to understand, but came up short.

It all began the day before, the day after the Sunday dinner, when Ron had asked Hermione out on a romantic stroll around Hogsmeade. They held hands and enjoyed some warm butterbeer while walking along the snow covered paths near Hogwarts grounds, reminiscing about their school years together. Unavoidably, they entered upon the subject of the war and, in hindsight, Ron supposed that might not have been a great thing to discuss on a date.

It got worse after that.

Cold and tired, Hermione had felt it best to retire somewhere. Ron had hoped she would; it had been part of his plan. He'd told his girlfriend he wouldn't move into the flat until after New Year's, but the move had gone faster than predicted. Harry had helped and was surprisingly good at cleaning without magic. 'Loads of practice at the Dursley's,' he'd said.

So, Ron had prepared for them to have a nice dinner at the flat. George would be at Lee Jordan's anyway. Taking his hand and letting him Apparate, Hermione found herself surrounded by candles and roses. He'd smiled at her, waiting for her to do the same, or gush or giggle or be amazed. But no. If possible, it made her look even sadder than when they'd talked about the war.

They'd had their dinner in silence, tension growing by the minute. Trying to lift the mood, he asked her to join him for a tour to the bedroom. He'd redecorated it quite nicely, he thought. He'd imagined Hermione would spend a lot of time with him there, so he'd kept it classy. With the exception of The Chuddley Canons colouring his wall… (He'd limited himself to only three posters, though).

She cheered up a little when she took in the bookshelf and armchair, in the corner, he'd prepared for her.

Then he kissed her.

And that's when everything turned to shite.

She'd returned it, and he thought everything was fine. He deepened their kiss and felt her get surprised. But she had thrown her arms around his neck so he proceeded. Somehow they found themselves on his bed. While he began trailing pecks down her neck, however, she suddenly threw him off her.

He asked if she was okay and she just started screaming at him. She cried and looked around the room as if just realizing where she was.

"' _Mione, what is it? Calm down."_

" _Calm down? I can't, Ron!"_

" _Wh-Why?"_

" _Why? Because everything is wrong!"_

He panicked then. She felt that everything was wrong? Did she not want to be with him anymore?

" _Whadd'ya mean everything's wrong? Did I do something?"_

" _It's not all about you, Ron! I need to go."_

"' _Mione-"_

But it was too late, she'd Disapparated.

Harry checkmated him.

"Ron, if you're not going to give it your all, I can't really relish in beating you."

Ron shook out of his daze. They were sitting in front of the fire in Grimmauld Place, playing Wizard Chess.

"What do you think she meant?"

Harry sighed. "For the millionth time, I don't know. And I really don't appreciate you asking me to help you snog your girlfriend. She's like my sister."

Ron made a face. "Right. And you're snogging my actual sister, so I think we're even."

Harry looked away, slightly red. "Fine." He ruffled his hair, causing it to look messier than usual. "I think that you might have overwhelmed her. Maybe she thought you were telling her to move in with you and she freaked? You put a bookshelf and a chair there, and everything."

This only made Ron's face contort more. "No. The bookshelf and the chair were the only things she actually seemed pleased about. But-"he broke off realizing that maybe what his best friend had said was true. Maybe Hermione had been overwhelmed, just not by furniture. "I think you might be onto somethin'. She might have felt it was too much yesterday."

Harry gestured for him to continue.

"Er- we were on the bed and things…heated up."

Harry's eyes were wide now. "You're kidding?"

Ron, flustered and confused, shoot him a dark look. "What, think we only sit around and hold hands all day?"

"Quite the opposite. I thought-"he ruffled his hair again, embarrassed. "I thought you were already, _you know_. But by the sound of it, the two of you haven't."

Ron's silence spoke volumes.

" _You're kidd_ -sorry! I just figured you had waited long enough. For years I had to put up with you hating each other, then loving each other, hate, love, hate, love-"

"I geddit," Ron barked. He tried relaxing, but a new thought occurred to him. "Harry?"

"Yeah?"

"Have you told, Ginny, you, er- _love_ her?"

Harry blinked. "Yes, 'course. Why are you asking? Being overprotective again?"

"No, I know you treat her all right, mate. It's just that- I haven't told Hermione yet. Is that weird?"

"Well, you've been going out for months and fancied each other even longer."

"That's not an answer."

Harry pondered this for a minute. "I suppose, it really doesn't matter how long you've been going out. What _does_ matter is if you _do_ love her; then tell her."

Ron bit his lip. "Maybe that's why she's freaking out…she doesn't want to take the next step until I've told her?"

"Could be. Now can we please stop talking about this? I feel extremely uncomfortable."

Ron chuckled. "The boy who defeated You-Know-Who feels uncomfortable talking about romance." But the red on his own ears betrayed him. How did girls do it?

* * *

~o0o~

* * *

What was going on with her?

Hermione hugged her pillow tighter as she let the tears cascade down her cheeks. The pillow beneath her head was drenched already, sticking to her face, but she hardly cared. She was embarrassed about crying this much, though.

 _He always makes me cry, whether intentionally or unintentionally…_

She tried blaming it on Ron, but it was hard when she knew it wasn't his fault this time. Yesterday had been a perfect date by any other person's standards. And it should be even more so because it was Ron who'd gone through the trouble of making her all of those nice surprises.

But no, she just had to go sod it all up. The whole time they were at Hogsmeade she tried to pluck up the courage and talk to him about their relationship. To have a real discussion. However, the village, and his hand in hers, only contributed to this strange sense of comfort she didn't want to let go of yet. It was familiar, predictable and safe. It was her previous years at Hogwarts; a life where she'd known what the next step was, where she knew there was a goal. A finish line.

 _But what do you do after that finish line?_

And then came the apartment. Dinner. Roses. Candles. Romance. With someone she considered one of her best friends…

And the kissing…She'd wanted him for so long. He was what she thought was _it_. So uncomplicated really, that she would end up with someone she'd known forever and already established a solid foundation for a relationship with. But she was scared now. That foundation was crumbling. Fast.

Would the Weasley's hate her? If she broke up with Ron, would Hermione end up being one of those people they referred to at gatherings with some quirky anecdote? And would Ron forgive her? Would they be able to be friends again? There was just so much to lose…

And so, she'd given in. She kissed him back and tried to love this boy the same way he loved her.

But when his lips left hers and she opened her eyes, it felt like someone had poured a bucket of ice over her head. They were in _Fred's_ room. It was all wrong.

She pushed Ron off and all of the emotions poured out of her and she took it out on the only living soul in close proximity. It was unfair of her, but she was human.

 _He looked so confused before I left… He always was a bit slow, though…_

Stop it! How could he have known what went through her head? How could anyone?

She herself hardly knew.

Something she did know, though, was that Fred's memories were one of the few things making her joyful lately. Bizarre, since his sixteen year old self seemed to have had a thing for her.

 _Not confirmed yet_ , she told herself. _You have more vials to look through_.

And that, oddly enough, she looked forward to.

Perhaps she could ask her mum for advice? Although, she doubted her mum would understand if her daughter told her that she needed a dead man's preserved memories to cheer up.

 _Dead…_

Fred was dead.

During her escapades into his memories, Hermione had briefly allowed herself to forget, but reality hit her like a cold shower once more. What did it matter whether or not Fred Weasley had fancied her? It wouldn't change anything, except making Hermione feel guilty about not having noticed anything. He was gone and she was alive.

The tears continued falling.

Why didn't the notion of having Fred Weasley fancy her frighten her more? She'd been baffled beyond words when memory George had brought it up, but after plunging out of the Pensieve she'd had time to consider this.

Was she actually so surprised? Hadn't she always, on some level, noted how much gentler than George he was towards her? Meanwhile, others would describe Fred as being the harsher twin when Hermione alone would disagree.

She sobbed.

 _Oh, you're rubbish, Granger. Stop crying!_ she scolded herself. _He's gone and the least you can do is not mope around. Everyone died so that the rest of us could live; not lie in bed all day._

Hermione was tired of crying. She thought that this would be a joyous and peaceful time. Boy, had she been wrong. She felt so naïve for having believed that everything would somehow be well once Voldemort died. The aftermath of the battles were not just blown up towers and ruined bridges.

It was Hermione absentmindedly clutching her branded arm, remembering Bellatrix Lestrange pinning her down after countless torture curses.

It was holding Teddy Lupin while his grandmother and godfather paid their respects to the caskets holding the little boy's parents.

It was watching Parvati Patil break down in front of her best friend's mangled corpse while Hermione reached for her boyfriend's hand to comfort him but he just stood there, unresponsive.

It was listening to Harry reveal Severus Snape's real motives behind his actions and urging people, anyone really, to place a flower by his grave.

It was Lee Jordan always catching himself staring at the air behind George, expecting another twin to show up.

It was funeral after funeral after funeral.

There was a knock on Hermione's door.

She hurried to wipe her tears away. It probably would do no good, her puffy eyes no doubt betrayal enough to her current state. She cleared her throat, "Come in."

Joan Granger peeked her head in, the brown curls she shared with her daughter gracefully spilling into view. Hermione always envied her mother's graceful curls, so different from her own. Her normally gentle face turned stern when she observed the mess her daughter was in.

"Darling, supper's ready."

Hermione was embarrassed and looked away. "I-I'll be right down."

But her mother was having none of it. She shut the door behind her and sat down next to her daughter on the bed. "What happened?"

 _Where to start?_

"Nothing, really- just had a stupid fight with Ron." This was true, so Hermione didn't feel too bad about not telling her mum the other things. Her parents still weren't over her shipping them off to Australia while their daughter risked her life. Hermione didn't want to add her trauma on top of their worries.

Her mother's shoulders relaxed. "I see. Would you like to tell me what it was about?"

The brightest witch of her age blushed.

 _Er, yeah…Your only child almost lost her virginity to a boy she is contemplating breaking up with…_

"It was just another silly argument."

"I doubt it's silly if you've been crying all day about it."

Hermione considered her options for a moment. It would feel so good to tell someone about her troubles. Her whole Fred dilemma could wait, but talking about boy troubles was part of a mother's job, wasn't it?

Joan waited.

Hermione gathered some of her Gryffindor courage. "I don't think I'm in love with Ron."

She nervously looked up to meet her mother's gaze. It was sad.

"I'm so sorry, dear."

And then it came spilling out. How in a span of less than seventy-two hours, Hermione's world had been turned upside-down. The boy she'd fancied since she was sixteen was nothing more than that; a boy she fancied at sixteen. He was, of course, one of her best friends and she shared her fears with her mum, who patiently listened to her daughter's woes. How she was afraid the Weasley's would exclude her, how Ron might resent her, and how Hermione overall feared she'd lose more than she would gain from breaking it off with him.

When Hermione finally finished, Mrs. Granger frowned. "Darling, if you're not happy him, then to hell with the Weasley's."

"Mum!"

"I'm serious. You know I adore them, but to exclude someone who they've treated as a daughter for the past seven years simply because you and their son ended your relationship after a couple of _months_ …well, let's just say they wouldn't be worth crying over the way you are right now."

"Yes, but…"

"And that Ronald Weasley should prove himself to be a good friend for once. I'm not saying he should be all right after you dump him, but at least be understanding. He should care about your happiness as well as his own. I hope he learned that after the fight you had in your fourth year."

Hermione regretted telling her mother about the Yule Ball incident. She and her father had barely been able to stop a bloodthirsty and raging Joan Granger from seeking out the boy who ruined her daughter's special night.

Mrs. Granger embraced her and stroked the bushy hair. "All your father and I want is for you to be happy, dear." She paused and kissed the top of her head. "And to join us for dinner before it turns cold."

And with that, she left her daughter to think a while longer.

After a few silent moments, Hermione climbed out of her bed and grabbed a quill and paper.

* * *

~o0o~

* * *

 _Ron,_

 _I'm sorry for the way I stormed off yesterday. Want to talk tomorrow?_

 _Hermione_

Ron clutched the tiny piece of parchment.

Hermione wanted to talk and fix things.

He felt hopeful and after discussing with Harry earlier, he was sure he knew what she wanted him to say. For once, he knew what to do.

Smiling, he started scribbling down a reply.

* * *

~o0o~

* * *

The next morning Ron awoke to his owl tapping on the window. He groggily let him in, handed him a treat and began opening his letter. Hermione had agreed to meet him in the flat at lunch.

Grinning, he rose and hastily put his pants on. He stalked out of his room, and knocked on his brother's door.

"Oy, George! George!"

Something thumped against the wall.

"Quit throwing pillows and open!"

George rubbed his eyes and emerged clad in nothing but boxers. "Whaddisit, yougid?"

"Hermione's coming over in a few hours and I'm gonna need the apartment empty."

This seemed to wake his brother up. "That's the single most revolting sentence I've ever heard you utter."

Ron's ears turned red. "Not for that. We're going to talk."

George's ginger eyebrows shot up. "Is that what she said? That she wanted to talk?"

"Yeah, that's why I need you to leave before she arrives."

George couldn't believe how oblivious his little brother was. A woman wanting to talk could only mean trouble. And judging by Granger's behavior recently…George would be willing to bet all his gold in Gringotts that she wanted to break his brother's heart.

 _Wouldn't be the first brother she does that to_ , he thought and mentally scoffed.

He knew it was unfair, because the little bookworm never knew about his deceased twin's feelings, but it still didn't stop him from cringing every so often.

Whenever Ron and Hermione held hands or kissed, it simply made him want to smack them both.

But a few days ago, when he'd caught her lingering in his old bedroom, George couldn't help but wonder if she wasn't as clueless he'd believed her to be. She looked like she had been reminiscing in there. Like she'd been as reminded of Fred by the smell of their old bedroom as George himself always was.

 _Oh, wouldn't that be tragic_ , he'd thought. _For her to realize she harbored feelings for Fred after he died._

George looked at his little brother.

 _Tragic indeed._

"Don't worry, Ronniekins. I'll make myself scarce," he said. "Just don't shag on the dining table, I like eating there," he finished and closed the door.

There was a growl on the other side of it, followed by mumbles.

"I told you that's not what…Git…"

George sighed. He did not look forward to coming home tonight. Maybe he should just spend the night at Lee's…

* * *

~o0o~

* * *

 **A/N: Hello, everyone!**

 **Thank you as always for the lovely reviews, they make my heart soar, knowing you like this story. And to everyone who favorited and followed, thank you so much. You have no idea how happy all of this makes me.**

 **This might have been a bummer of a chapter and I'm sorry, but it had to be done. And after you're down, it could only go up, right? And I think I made up for it a bit with a half-naked George haha ;) Call it an early Christmas gift!**

 **Short announcement!**

 **I will be taking a tiny break over the holidays. Don't worry, I'll be back by January.**

 **It's just that with school, and Christmas and writing, I just need some time. I want to give you good chapters, and not half-assed ones, so I'll need to take a tiny break from updating.**

 **I wish you the very best of holidays, no matter what you celebrate (or if you don't celebrate at all, then have fun doing that too of course).  
And a happy New Year in advance! **

**Until next time!  
/Primrue**


	7. Breakup and Quidditch

Disclaimer: I wish I owned Harry Potter, but I don't. Seriously, I don't own any of it.

Breakup and Quidditch

* * *

~o0o~

* * *

It was the middle of January.

Snow still covered the grounds of Hogwarts and the cold winds of winter rendered plenty of corridors useless. The construction the castle had been under for several months didn't hinder students being taught, though. There were always more than enough classrooms to hold the young witches and wizards.

However, it was an unusual sight to see anyone willing to venture into the cold this time of year.

Then again, Hermione Granger was anything but usual.

It wasn't too bad, she mused. The sun was up, and a simple warming charm let her occupy one of the intact benches in the courtyard without freezing her bum off. For all intents and purposes, Hermione seemed to be content reading her book alone in the cold. If anyone walked by, they would have no visible indication hinting at her inner turmoil.

It had been several weeks since she'd last spoken to Ronald Weasley, her ex-boyfriend.

A fact which Hermione herself tried to ignore but the wizarding media made near impossible. Everyone seemed eager to learn the reason behind the 'Golden Trio's Golden Couple' split.

One thing was obvious though; Ron had not taken the breakup well.

And as to why? Now that was information only Ron, Hermione, Harry and Ginny were privy to.

They'd argued for what felt like hours.

Her plan had merely involved calmly explaining to Ron that while she did love him, and that he was her best friend, she didn't have any romantic feelings towards him anymore.

But apparently that had been the wrong thing to say.

And so the breakup of the century had begun.

A lot came up in the midst of the fight, things that Hermione hadn't even realized until she regretfully spat them out.

They really had nothing in common, she'd thought, and during a particularly nasty moment she'd told him as much; he was too immature for her, and she needed someone that would be on her level intellectually and emotionally.

In retaliation, he had unleashed all the petty comments she'd already heard uttered by others, including Ron himself, doing nothing but proving her point further.

The worst hadn't been the anger, though. The worst had been towards the end, when he'd broken down on his couch and asked her if she was seeing someone else. Hermione's heart broke, and wanted nothing more than for him to know that that wasn't the case.

" _I just want you to be happy. And…I want me to be happy too. Surely you understand that we don't really work, Ron? This is for the best."_

He'd refused to look at her and she'd sworn she'd seen a teardrop slide down his cheek.

" _Just leave, Hermione."_

And she did. It was the least she could do.

When arriving back home she'd felt horrible about ending their relationship, but even worse when she discovered how a weight was lifted off her chest. As if she was _relieved_.

 _I am despicable_ , she'd thought.

Nevertheless, there was an undeniable feeling of respite in knowing she wouldn't have to pretend it didn't hurt whenever Ron complained about her reading or having to deal with his jealousy whenever she talked to a boy who wasn't him, Harry or her own father. Not having to let her sentences fade whenever she began discussing something she found interesting while her boyfriend rolled his eyes in a mocking manner.

Or that she would kiss him and it never felt quite right.

Hermione found herself feeling relieved, on that bench in the courtyard. She closed her eyes at the clear sky and let the sunbeams warm her.

It helped to have Harry still talk to her. And of course, Ginny never cared if her brother told her to do something (apparently Ron had ordered his sister to stay clear from 'traitors).The girl had been an immense help. She assured Hermione, during those awful first days when the press and she herself questioned her sanity, that she had made the right choice. Ron only needed time to realize it as well.

Hermione hadn't met any of the other Weasley's since the breakup, and it made her afraid that her biggest fear might come true, but Ginny was once again there to reassure her, explaining that no one blamed Hermione. Except maybe Mrs. Weasley.

That stung.

But Joan Granger's words gave her courage. Her mother was right, she wouldn't lose everything. And even if the wizard family decided to abandon her, then… good riddance.

She flinched at the thought, but immediately shook it away. No, if the Weasley's decided to turn their backs on her then…

"…to hell with them," she mumbled aloud.

"To hell with who?"

Hermione dropped her book and turned to where the voice came from.

Draco Malfoy was staring down at her, eyebrows raised in amusement. Fred's voice echoed in her mind, _"All right, I'll wait it out and see. Probably not more than being impressed over her slapping Malfoy, anyway."_

A smile tugged at her lips.

"Just cursing the Weasley family, Malfoy. And don't look so pleased about it or I'll slap you again."

The pale haired boy couldn't help himself and let a smirk escape on his thin lips. "Finally, you see reason."

Hermione huffed. "I wasn't really damning _all_ of them," she continued, picking up her fallen book and charmed it to be dry again.

Malfoy scoffed. "Yeah, I heard about you and Weaselbee. Broke your heart, did he, Granger?"

Hermione rose, rolling her eyes. "Not that it matters, but _I_ broke up with _him_ , Malfoy."

One of his pale eyebrows quirked in surprise, but the Slytherin didn't investigate further. No one at school seemed to, and those who tried were first years who didn't know better. It was as if there'd been a silent agreement to not pester her with questions about personal matters. Or that's what she'd thought until a couple of day ago.

" _It's because you're a war hero, and loads of the students saw you fight alongside them at the battle of Hogwarts_ ," Neville'd said. " _People respect you here_."

" _And we might have threatened some people who would try to bother you as well_ ," said Luna. " _It was Ginny's idea_."

The redheaded witch had smiled at her wickedly. " _My bat-bogey's also demand a certain respect around here_."

Malfoy nodded for Hermione to follow him to their next class.

As they walked in silence, Hermione added another thing in her mental list of reasons why she did right by terminating her relationship with Ron.

After returning to school, Draco had been less of an arse than in the past. He would nod when their eyes met, being polite and considerate. No more slurs, no more condescending glares.

At first she'd been vary, but Hermione quickly understood Malfoy felt remorse and guilt for everything that had happened.

Whenever he stood nearby, his gaze traveled to her arm; looking equally pained every single time.

One afternoon she had enough and pulled him aside after class to explain once and for all how she didn't blame him for what his demented aunt had done.

He'd looked embarrassed and avoided her for a few days before, apparently, deciding he trusted she'd meant it. He'd swallowed his pride and the two of them had been on speaking terms ever since.

They weren't friends, but they shared an understanding. Something which had been bound to happen, seeing as how they both would catch the other rubbing their own forearm regularly.

When Hermione left the train on Platform Nine and Three-quarters to meet Ron and Harry for the winter holidays a few weeks prior, she had, however, made the mistake of speaking to Malfoy in front of her two best friends.

They hadn't hugged, Merlin, they'd barely talked. Simply wishing the other a pleasant Christmas and waved good bye.

Ron immediately sulked at the sight. Harry just looked confused.

" _What are you doing talking to Malfoy, 'Mione?"_

" _I just told him to have a happy Christmas, Ronald. What's so hard to believe about that?"_

" _Malfoy? Christmas? Happy? Hermione, are you hearing yourself?"_

" _Yes, Ronald. Again; what's the problem?"_

" _He's Malfoy. He's an evil git."_

" _Ronald, have you learned nothing since the war? People change."_

Hermione glanced at the pureblood next to her. Yes, people changed. But Ron was stuck in his ways, refusing to admit that, more often than not, things were grey.

 _And sometimes, your view on people can change even after they're gone…_

* * *

~o0o~

* * *

When her last lesson of the day ended, Hermione decided to skip dinner and head straight for Gryffindor tower.

She passed through the portrait ("Laudatores temporis acti") and hopped to her dormitory.

Under her bed laid her trunk, which she pulled out and opened after settling her schoolbag on the floor.

Last time she dived into her Pensieve, she'd been upset, needing a distraction. This time Hermione felt happier.

 _Let's see what's inside vial number four, shall we, Fred?_

Some guilt surfaced for having neglected Fred's gift, but the breakup had diverted her attention elsewhere the past few weeks. It was proper to wait until she was focused, Hermione'd reasoned. Today, she felt ready, and anticipation rose inside.

She wanted to continue getting to know the person Fred Weasley had been. She wanted to notice what she hadn't before.

With this in mind, she made herself comfortable on her bed, hovering the Pensieve in front of her.

When diving into the first memory, she laughed.

Of course it would be the Burrow, now that she was sure she would be banned from there for life.

Hermione made a closer inspection of her surroundings.

The room was cleaner than she had ever seen it. The twins' beds had been tidied and the whole area was clear of the knickknacks usually covering the floor.

On the right side of the room stood Fred, sporting a muggle t-shirt and jeans. At his side was George, dressed similarly, and helping his twin throw clothes into their cupboard.

After stuffing some sweaters in there and turning to face the entire bedroom, Fred surveyed his and his brother's work. "This ought to be enough. Bill and Charlie aren't too picky."

"But you know mum is," said George.

He waved him off. "She's got enough to worry about. The Boy Wonder will be staying here, after all. She'd have Ron perform all the spells in those Lockhart books of hers if he wasn't underage."

Hermione's stomach lurched a bit. Not even five minutes into it and already Ron was mentioned, along with his mother.

She forced herself to calm her nerves. What happened between them was done. There was no point in being anxious. This had nothing to do with Ron. Hermione was doing this for Fred. To honor his memory.

With renewed determination, she returned her focus to the scene at hand.

The ginger in question had sat down by the desk facing the window. Hermione saw George join him, seating himself on one of the beds.

"Speaking of Harry, I hope you haven't forgotten about our other guest?" George asked, wiggling his eyebrows while slightly bouncing on the bed.

Fred sighed. "No, I haven't, but I don't understand why you're getting all excited, George."

George was grinning. "You admitted to being interested in the girl, Fred."

"Exactly. Interested. That's all."

George stopped bouncing, but didn't give up. "You'll be under the same roof this summer. You'll be going to the World Cup together. You'll be around each other almost twenty-four-seven. Honestly, nothing?"

"First of all," said Fred. "we spend our whole year at school being under the same roof. Second, Hermione doesn't even really like Quidditch; I doubt we'll be able to share the cheer. And third," Fred looked his twin in the eyes, "I don't understand why you keep pushing this, brother."

George shrugged. "Just don't want it to take you longer than necessary to figure your feelings out is all." A smirk suddenly spread across his face. "But I underestimated how daft you can be."

"What are you saying?"

"You didn't even realize you called Granger by her first name, did you?"

Fred stopped and his eyes glazed as he replayed their conversation in his mind. "No, but…I've…Big deal, so I called her Herm-"Fred's voice caught. "-mione."

 _Adorable…_

"See, a bloke simply being _interested_ in a girl wouldn't be blushing like Dumbledore did on Christmas our second year, when he was kissed on the cheek by a very drunk Flitwick," said George. " _You_ , mate, have got it bad."

"So you're saying Dumbledore's interested in Flitwick?"

"No, I'm saying you should get a proper grip on your feelings."

Fred didn't answer. Then, a _Lumos_ seemed to have been lit over his head. "You want to distract me," he said, lips extending wide when spotting his brother's confused expression.

"What?"

"No worries, I won't be in your way. And I'll keep playing this game of yours if it makes you feel better."

"I honestly have no clue what you're on about."

Then Mr. Weasley shouted from downstairs, "Anyone who wants to help me fetch Hermione, come downstairs now."

George rose to his feet. "Despite that pile of denial you're buried under, I still think you'd want to be a proper gentleman and help Granger with her trunk. Shall we?"

The familiar bedroom turned into a familiar living room.

"It's a very lovely home you have here, Mr. and Mrs. Granger," said Fred.

Hermione's mother smiled. "Thank you, dear. Would you like a tour of the house, Arthur?" She and her father turned to Mr. Weasley. "We have a wide range Muggle appliances you might be interested in getting a closer inspection of."

Mr. Weasley looked as if Christmas had come early. "I'd be delighted." He turned to his sons. "Help Hermione get her trunk and we'll be on our way soon."

Ron, Fred and George looked at each other. With their father let loose in a Muggle home, they'd be waiting more than a few minutes.

Hurried footsteps on the staircase sounded and then a bushy haired girl arrived in the sitting area. "I'm so sorry! The books refused to fit into my trunk!"

"Hello, Granger," said Fred.

"Hello!" She scanned the room. "Where's mum and dad?"

"They're showing our dad around your house," said Ron.

"Oh, well, that won't take too long, I hope," she said, biting her lip.

Ron snorted. "Let's just get your trunk so he won't have an excuse to stay until nightfall."

Hermione smiled. "Right. It's just up this way," she said and began leading them up the stairs.

With her back turned, she missed the way Ron and Fred started going after her at the same time, making it cramped in the staircase. George shook his head exhaustedly behind them.

Real Hermione chuckled.

The scene shifted.

"And with the O.W.L.s you got, you might want to focus on school rather than this prank business," Mrs. Weasley shrieked.

The twins were receiving a nasty scolding session from their mother. Luckily, it seemed Hermione only had to relive the last part. The first time had been horrible enough; she, Ron and Ginny had been in Ginny's room, hearing everything.

After having been yelled at, the twins departed and Hermione followed them up the stairs. They wound up sulking in Ron's room, Bill and Charlie already having taken theirs. They lay on their beds, staring up at the ceiling, the air of defeat hanging heavily in the room.

Hermione felt bad for them.

"She doesn't believe in us," George stated.

Fred scoffed. "Why should she, when comparing us to Percy? Great ministry worker that he is…"

"Wish she'd understand this is a good idea."

"I know…and not only her…"

"If you're talking about Granger-"

Fred lifted himself to a sitting position. "Did you see how impressed she was with Percy? It's worse than when she found out he got made Prefect." Fred shook his head. "Forget about being interested in her, George. She wants blokes like him, not guys like me who can barely scrape up a decent amount of O.W.L.s."

This took Hermione by surprise. She'd never thought Fred cared about his grades, and certainly not enough to feel bad about them because of _her_.

"Since when have either of us cared about grades?" said George, mirroring her thoughts.

His brother didn't answer.

"You're being utterly depressing," George continued.

Fred rubbed his neck. "Yeah."

It was silent for a moment, but then George spoke up. "We'll get to see Harry's git of a cousin tomorrow. How about I let you have the honors of giving him the Ton-Tongue-Toffees?"

Fred brightened. "That would be amazing."

The Burrow disappeared then, and was replaced by the great outdoors.

It was still early in the morning, the dark sky turning slightly blue as the sun made its way up. Hermione just arrived at the top of a hill, which she recognized as Stoatshead Hill, and a group were waiting to take the Portkey to the Quidditch World Cup.

Fred and George, though panting slightly, were nowhere near as exhausted as Hermione remembered she had been. She supposed, being Quidditch players, they were bound to be more athletic than the girl who spent all her free time reading.

She saw Fred looking over his shoulder once he reached the top, not stopping until he spotted her younger self arriving. She was the last one there.

They began searching for the Portkey, and after a few minutes, Amos Diggory announced himself by shouting he'd found it.

The bearded wizard and his son were introduced by Mr. Weasley.

The pang of sadness that usually accompanied Cedric's name, made its way through Hermione.

Cedric looked at them. "Hi," he said, his grey eyes shining bright despite having to get up at two in the morning.

She remembered thinking how handsome he looked-

 _What the hippogriff…_

Sure enough, mini 'Mione had allowed a small appreciative smile at the Hufflepuff's appearance, and even exchanged a knowing look with Ginny. What caught Hermione off guard, however, was that she now noticed Fred had glanced her way and seen it.

When everyone greeted Cedric back, Fred and George remained silent.

 _Odd…_

Mr. Diggory had just realized Harry was there and began boasting about his son.

"Told us all about playing against you last year…I said to him, I said- Ced, that'll be something to tell your grandchildren, that will…You beat Harry Potter!"

Harry didn't look like he knew what to say, while Fred hissed under his breath, so low that only his twin (and real Hermione, of course) could hear him, "Only because a Dementor made him fall off his broom…"

Fred and George scowled.

"Harry fell off his broom, Dad," Cedric muttered, embarrassed. "I told you…it was an accident…"

"Yes, but you didn't fall off, did you?" Amos continued, seemingly oblivious to the awkward mood growing between the Gryffindor team members and Cedric. The latter appeared keen for the others to know he didn't think himself better than Harry. "Always modest, our Ced, always the gentleman…but the best man won, I'm sure Harry'd say the same, wouldn't you, eh? One falls off his broom, one stays on, you don't need to be a genius to tell which one's the better flier!"

"…obviously," Fred snorted sarcastically, causing real Hermione to chortle slightly. George, who once again was the only one who heard, fought a grin.

They placed themselves around the Portkey- a manky old boot- every one of the nine people clutching a tiny piece of it each. Harry squeezed himself between Ron and mini 'Mione.

Hermione saw Fred standing on 'Mione's other side, awkwardly trying to not brush any of his body parts against her, but failing utterly, his arm lying almost on top of hers.

Hermione couldn't help but smile. She was getting the impression that this vial would provide equally adorable memories, and looked forward to it. She had never truly noticed this part of Fred before, the part that wasn't all confident, and it truly was like getting to know him all over again. Not to mention, his blushing was one of the most endearing things she'd ever seen.

"Three…two…one…"

They were transported immediately. When they arrived, Mr. Weasley, Mr. Diggory and Cedric were the only ones standing; the rest fell to the ground.

Ron and Harry staggered into one another and 'Mione was on her back, eyes closed, grunting in pain. Fred lost his balance and almost fell on top of her but at the last second managed to steer himself the other way when his knee hit the grass, pushing into his twin.

"Oy, g'eroff," came George's muffled bark.

"That was too close," Fred panted.

Everything dematerialized, and another memory started playing.

Harry, Ron and Hermione were approaching the campsite, carrying buckets of water.

"You've been ages," said George.

"Met a few people," said Ron, setting the water down. "You've not got that fire started yet?"

"Dad's having fun with the matches," said Fred who, Hermione observed, seemed to be torn between enjoyment and frustration.

There was a pile of splintered matches all around Mr. Weasley.

He managed to light one at last, only to drop it in surprise.

"Come here, Mr. Weasley," said her younger self kindly and showed him how to light the matches properly.

All of Fred's annoyance faded from his face, and he was now all amused…and looking at the witch fondly.

Heat rose to Hermione's cheeks.

 _Oh, get a grip on yourself, woman…he's not even looking at you, he's looking at…well…younger you…_

He continued smiling at 'Mione teaching his father the trick of lighting matches, until a small kick from his brother put him out of his daze. "You might want to wipe that dopey grin off your face, unless you _want_ her to know you're planning your wedding already," George whispered, barely suppressing a snicker.

"Shut it."

The surroundings shifted from being outside to inside.

They were loud in the tent, going over the match between Ireland and Bulgaria and discussing the parts they enjoyed. Even Hermione's fourteen year old self joined in.

"I really thought they were going to crash," she said, when they began talking about the last moments. She set aside her hot cocoa.

"And I told you they wouldn't, I mean Lynch did, but Krum is the greatest Seeker in the world!" Ron explained, an awestruck look painted all over his face.

Ginny giggled. "I think you're in love, Ron."

Everyone laughed and Ron's ears turned red. He told them to bugger off, but continued praising Krum just the same.

Fred returned from the bathroom and picked up one of the cups, sipping the warm drink. "What've I missed?"

Harry grinned. "Just Ron's undying flame for Viktor Krum."

Fred smirked. "Ah, yes, everyone's favorite Bulgarian bon-bon. You would make quite the couple," he said and winked at his brother.

"Yeah, yeah," Ron grumbled.

Fred took another sip and noticed 'Mione looking at him strangely. "What's the matter, Granger?"

"Ehrm…it's just that…well, that's my cup, Fred." She pointed to the mug he was holding.

He let his eyes grow wide for a second, but then quickly caught himself. "You don't say?" He held it up, observing, and then looked back at her. "I'm sorry for robbing you, Granger. Tell you what, I'll get you a new one! Or you can just have mine, that's only fair."

She smiled. "No, that's fine. Thank you, though."

George, having heard the exchange, said, loud enough for others to hear, "Oh, Fred, you only took her cup to get an indirect kiss from her, didn't ya?"

Most of them laughed good-naturedly, Bill looking as if he found the youngsters adorable, while memory Hermione and Fred turned slightly pink.

Ron looked as if someone had smeared dragon dung on his face. "That's not even remotely funny, George."

The chuckles faded, and a slight tension began to grow, until there was a loud crash, and chocolate dribbled all over the floor.

"Gracious! Your sister's fallen asleep," said Mr. Weasley. "No, I think that just about confirms it; it's late, you should get off to bed, all of you."

There were some small groans but no one objected.

" _Scourgify_ ", said Charlie, and the mess disappeared.

They began clearing the table before heading off to bed.

Ginny woke to the sounds, yawned, and blinked her eyes. She looked around, then walked up to Fred, grabbed his arm and whispered, "You owe me."

"What?" he asked, astonished, but Ginny had already skipped away to join 'Mione, looking surprisingly alert for someone who supposedly just woke up. The girls left for their tent.

Hermione gasped.

 _Did Ginny know? Has she known this whole time and never told me?_

Before this new revelation could really set into her mind, it went dark.

They were in a forest, it was close to pitch-black and screams and explosions were heard in the background. Occasional flashes of light showed Hermione the terrified faces of Fred, George and Ginny. After stumbling a little, Fred lit his wand and they continued to rush through the trees, until Ginny suddenly came to a stop.

"Fred! Fred! Let go of my hand!"

"We have to get you to safety, Ginny! Stop being difficult!"

"No, but you don't understand! The others…they're gone!"

Fred and George both halted and turned around.

"We have to go back!"

The twins looked at each other.

"Ginny, those hooded people were most likely Death Eaters," said George, his tone soft. He wasn't being condescending, Hermione gathered that he probably only tried to make his sister understand the danger they were in. "They are old followers of You-Know-Who."

Ginny looked like she was about to cry. "Exactly. And what do you think they'll do if they see Harry?" She turned to Fred, her eyes watery, but her voice never wavered. "And you saw what they did to those muggles. Imagine what they'll do to Hermione? She's muggleborn!"

Fred flinched, as if his sister just slapped him.

George seemed scared both of his siblings were about to lose their calm. "Look, they are more than capable to fend for themselves. And besides," he continued when Ginny opened her mouth to argue. "I'm sure they reached the forest with us; they'll be safe from the masses."

Ginny glared at her older brother, who in turn kept his expression strict.

There was a strong gust of wind and the trees rustled.

"I…" said Fred, his voice barely louder than a whisper. "I think we should go back."

"What?" George and Ginny said. He, in a disbelieving tone, while their sister nearly smiled in triumph.

Fred shook his head. "Not now, though. It's still too much of a danger. Don't look at me like that, Gin, you know it's true. We'll wait for a few minutes and then try to get back to the tent. Harry, Ron and Hermione will probably be waiting there."

"But-"

"We can look around for them here in the woods in the meantime."

"Fine."

They began searching, but after twenty minutes all they'd encountered were grumpy Durmstrang students, and they clearly began losing hope.

"Where are they?" Ginny said, nearing tears again.

"We might as well head back now. C'mon." said Fred, looking no better himself.

When they reached the tent, unharmed, they hastily searched it.

"Harry! Ron! Hermione!" Ginny ran from corner to corner.

"They're not here," said George, sinking onto the floor.

"They're okay, they have to be," Fred muttered, pacing.

Someone stepped inside and all three snapped their heads towards the entrance.

Ginny gasped.

"Oh, Merlin! Bill, what happened to your arm?" She hurried to grab a bedsheet from one of the bunks, handing it to her eldest brother, who pressed it against his bleeding arm. He sat down at the kitchen table.

"Thanks, Ginny. Ouch, that stings." He caught his siblings' worried stares. "Don't worry, you should see the other guy," he joked.

They smiled slightly, but continued wearing grave expressions.

"You really should let me do it," said another voice, entering the tent. Charlie was holding his wand against a struggling Percy.

"I'm perfectly capable of healing my own nose, thank you very much, brother," protested Percy, clutching his bloody nose.

Bill sighed. "Perce, just let Charlie do it. He's had the most broken bones out of all of us."

Percy glanced around, thinking hard, weighing his options. "Fine," he relented.

He let go of his nose.

Charlie cleared his throat. " _Episkey_!"

"Ouch!" Percy's nose snapped back into place and the bleeding stopped.

"See, that wasn't so bad, was it?" Charlie turned to Fred, George and Ginny and his small smile faltered. "Where are the others?"

Ginny pulled her eyebrows close, her lower lip trembling. "We lost them on our way to the woods."

Bill, still holding the bedsheet, which now was stained red, swore.

Fred clutched his head in his hands.

"Hang on, I think I hear something outside," said Charlie suddenly and poked his head out of the tent. The rest of them saw him jump. "Dad, what's going on?"

The Weasleys started at the mention of their father and focused their attention to the conversation outside.

"Fred, George and Ginny got back okay, but the others-"Charlie continued, but was cut off by his father.

"I've got them here," said Mr. Weasley and there was a collective sigh of relief in the tent.

Harry, Ron, Hermione and Mr. Weasley entered. There was a lengthy explanation of what had happened whilst they were away in the woods. When they finished, Percy began coming to Mr. Crouch's defense.

"Well. Mr. Crouch is quite right to get rid of an elf like that!" he said, and real Hermione scoffed. "Running away when he'd expressly told her not to…embarrassing him in front of the whole Ministry…how would that have looked, if she'd been brought up in front of the Department for the Regulation and Control-"

"She didn't do anything- she was just in the wrong place at the wrong time!" Mini 'Mione snapped at him.

Percy's jaw went slack, never having disagreed with Hermione on anything before. She remembered this being the first step in her respect for Percy disappearing. The final one had naturally been the moment he'd decided to turn his back on his family in favor of the Ministry's lies.

After a short silence, the former Head Boy recovered and held his chin high, opting to deal with her like he did many others. "Hermione, a wizard in Mr. Crouch's position can't afford a house-elf who's going to run amok with a wand!"

"She didn't run amok!" 'Mione shouted." She just picked it off the ground!"

Most of the people in the tent looked just as confused as Percy, which wasn't too strange. Prior to this argument, she had been one of the few who got along well with the bespectacled Weasley.

Hermione, as usual, turned to observe Fred's reaction. As with the time right before Malfoy called her 'mudblood', Fred looked stunned, but in that good way of his. He wasn't smiling, but his eyes shone with something she hadn't seen there a second ago.

If someone had asked her to label that look, she would have told them it was 'hope'.

* * *

~o0o~

* * *

 **A/N: Hello, everybody!**

 **I hope the holidays and the new year has been treating you well. I had a pleasant Christmas/birthday (I was born December 24** **th** **, which is when we celebrate here) and the New Year was spent watching fireworks with friends.  
I want to thank you for being so patient, and hope the news of my rather successful break from updating made the waiting worth it? Oh, and as well as this new, looong chapter. **

**Speaking of; you might wonder why I didn't write Hermione and Ron's breakup in detail. The explanation is rather simple: I kinda didn't want to.  
Most of us can agree that their relationship wouldn't have lasted long and the reasons as to why are mostly obvious. Therefore, a full on breakup chapter would have been boring and repetitive and full of crying... I think.  
* Whispers * Also, there's enough angst when half of your ship is dead...(Oh, no, she didn't! Yes she did!...Please don't stop following this story haha) **

**I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and that you keep reading.  
Thank you for the comments on the last chapter, and thank you so much to everyone who favorited and followed!**

 **Until next time!  
/Primrue**


	8. Fourth year (part one)

Fourth Year (part one)

* * *

~o0o~

* * *

It was raining.

The sky hung dark and heavy as streams of water fell into pools on the ground, puddles which surfaces were disrupted by the quick feet of students hurrying out of their carriages into the castle.

From where she stood outside Hermione heard someone cackle loudly.

Peeves, ever welcoming, was throwing water balloons at people, and when Fred, George and Lee emerged from their carriage, they were just in time to see one hit Ron.

"Brilliant, Peeves is starting off the year well, "said George.

Fred didn't answer, but muttered a spell and flicked his wand. Following the direction in which he'd pointed she saw that he was making the balloon that had been headed mini 'Mione's way land with a 'splash' at Harry's feet instead.

The sweet gesture barely had time to register in her mind when Hermione went from standing by the castle's entrance to standing in the Great Hall.

A quick observation told her that Dumbledore had announced the Triwizard Tournament a moment earlier. And it also seemed like the students had learned about the age limit.

"They can't do that!" said George, who had not joined the crowd moving toward the door, but was standing up and glaring at Dumbledore. "We're seventeen in April, why can't we have a shot?"

"They're not stopping me entering," said Fred stubbornly, also scowling at the top table. "The champions'll get to do all sorts of stuff you'd never be allowed to do normally. And a thousand Galleons prize money!"

At the time, Hermione had assumed the twins were after the money for the same reason as Ron, who at the moment was sighing at the prospect of having more money. Now, she knew they had been in need of starting capital for their shop. They were upset because they wanted to use the money to develop their idea. She admired them for that ambition. In some ways, always had, even when she was younger. If only she'd been able to look past them stealing toilet seats…

'Mione began leading them out of the Great Hall, sad for the Weasleys' sake and their financial troubles.

"Who's this impartial judge who's going to decide who the champions are?" said Harry.

"Dunno," said Fred. "But it's them we'll have to fool. I reckon a couple of drops of Aging Potion might do it, George…"

"Dumbledore knows you're not of age, though," said Ron.

"Yeah, but he's not the one who decides who the champion is, is he?" said Fred shrewdly. "Sounds to me like once this judge knows who wants to enter, he'll choose the best from each school and never mind how old they are, Dumbledore's trying to stop us giving our names."

"People have died, though!" said 'Mione in a worried voice as they walked through a door concealed behind a tapestry and started up another, narrower staircase.

"Yeah," said Fred airily.

The first time around, Hermione thought his light attitude had been due to his reckless nature, but knowing what she knew now…the way his face lit up, while with a hint of smugness…

 _Oh dear, he's overjoyed that I care whether he lives or dies…_

Hermione rubbed her forehead in incredulity, laughing.

"But that was years ago, wasn't it?" Fred continued. "Anyway, where's the fun without a bit of risk?"

 _On the other hand, he might just be reckless…_

Her younger self stared at him pointedly, still concerned. He broke their eye-contact. "Hey, Ron," Fred said, turning to his brother. "What if we find out how to get 'round Dumbledore? Fancy entering?"

Next thing she knew, Fred, George and Lee were walking into the Great Hall.

 _Rather difficult to keep up when these things switch so abruptly,_ she thought and turned her attention to the boys.

"That was the coolest lesson we've ever had!" said Lee.

"Can't wait for the next one," said George.

They walked to the Gryffindor table, only to have 'Mione rush past them.

"Where's the fire, Granger?" said Fred, grinning.

She swished her thick hair around. "The library!"

He kept his smile going, and Hermione noticed he chose to sit down at the seat she'd just vacated. "Moody!" he said to Ron and Harry. "How cool is he?"

The people blurred but the environment remained. Only difference was that Hermione was standing by another side of the table.

"Shame it didn't work, but we'll find another way to get money," Fred assured his brother.

George rubbed his chin. "Maybe I shouldn't have let Madam Pomfrey shave the beard. I was growing rather fond of it."

Fred chuckled.

"So, we both agreed Krum over there will be Durmstrang's champion," George pointed to Viktor, entering with Karkaroff, just ahead of Harry, Ron and Hermione.

The latter three started for the Gryffindor table, where Fred and George sat.

"Yeah, but Lee was talking about some bloke called Belikov, whoever that is," said Fred and rolled his eyes. "I'm not sure about Beauxbatons though, are you?"

"For once; no. I have no clue. Who d'you reckon will be Hogwarts'?"

"Hope it's Angelina," said Fred as the trio sat down.

Her younger self leaned in excitedly and Hermione blushed.

 _Had I no shame?_

"So do I!" 'Mione told him breathlessly. "Well, we'll soon know!"

Fred looked almost grateful when she withdrew and then directed her attention to the Feast. He, at least, seemed to have been aware of their closeness.

The surroundings changed completely now.

Fred, George, Ron and Lee were seated at a table at the Three Broomsticks.

The boys joked around, but Ron was looking slightly grumpy. Hermione realized this was during the time he was convinced Harry had entered the tournament without him. He had been trailing after his older brothers a lot back then. She wondered how they'd managed to not hex each other when they otherwise would bicker about every single thing after only five seconds of interacting.

"I overheard the girls talking about that article," said Lee. "D'you reckon it's true? I mean, Ron, you would know right?"

Ron only grunted something unintelligible in response.

Fred and George shook their heads, laughing. "You're acting like our mother. There are more interesting things than gossip, Lee," said George. "Who cares if Harry and Granger are snogging in the back of the library?"

Fred put down his butterbeer.

"You know they're not, right?" he told their younger brother who was clutching his own bottle, mouth set in a firm grimace. The twins exchanged worried glances, while Lee was turning his head, observing the other customers.

"Yeah," said Ron finally.

Fred did not look convinced. In fact, Hermione thought he looked worried.

A gust of wind swept through the pub, and through the door came memory Hermione, seemingly alone.

Real Hermione, however, remembered that, unbeknownst to the others, Harry also was there; only he was hidden under his invisibility cloak.

"Why does she sit all by herself?" said Lee.

Ron grumbled. He appeared to have realized she wasn't actually alone.

"Now that's just sad," continued Lee. "She's scribbling in that Spew book of hers."

"Should we call her over?" said Fred, ignoring his twin's smirk.

Ron took a swig of butterbeer. "Don't bother," he muttered.

"Okay…"

The other three eyed him. Fred looked even more worried than earlier, and Hermione wondered why. Surely it couldn't all be because of Ron? As his brother, he must've been privy to his childish behavior before. Family and friends knew that this was just Ron lashing out, so how come Fred looked like he had a really bad stomach ache?

 _Maybe because he doesn't know what Ron's actually bad-tempered about…He doesn't know Harry's under an invisibility cloak…_

The pub turned into a Hogwarts corridor and Hermione hurried to catch up with the twins. She was beginning to get better at keeping up with the shifts.

"-I'm just saying, what's been with you lately? It's like last year, when you avoided her. Sure, she was biting everyone's heads off at the time, but now you're almost ignoring her-"

"We've been busy with Bagman," Fred snapped. "Excuse me if I've been otherwise occupied." Then he slowed down and rubbed his neck. "And...you saw Ron. I think he fancies her, George."

George sighed. "Does it matter? The miserable sod probably won't realize it, and he'll keep treating her like dragon dung because he has the mentality of a five year old. You, meanwhile, have it so bad that you don't even comment on her Spew thing-"

"It's S.P.E.W," Fred began but stopped when this only appeared to make his twin more exasperated. "Never mind, and I didn't join, remember?"

"And thank Merlin for that, but I do recall when she went on one of her tirades, that you, Fred Weasley, the king of talking, went quiet as a mouse, staring at your bacon."

Fred sighed. "And you went on to ramble-"

"-I only told the truth. The house-elves like serving us."

"I know."

Hermione glared at them, despite knowing she wasn't visible to anyone here. She would have to have a talk with George about elf rights again.

She followed their steps down to the kitchen, and was taken aback as always at the sound of a dozen excited squeaks greeting them.

"Masters!"

"Hello, everyone," Fred and George greeted the house-elves.

"What can we do for you today, Masters Weasley?"

"How many times do we have to ask you to call us Fred and George, Dotty?"

The house-elf smiled. "At least a hundred more, sirs."

Fred laughed. "Very well, then. D'you mind whipping up some food and drink for the Gryffindor tower, Dotty? We're having a bit of a celebration."

"Certainly!"

After getting their food, the twins (and real Hermione) headed for the common room, but instead of using the way they'd come from, they turned a sharp left down the corridor. They paused by a tapestry and tapped a few bricks next to it with their wands. A hole appeared and they went through it, like it was nothing. It sealed itself behind them and after just a few minutes of walking up a flight of stairs, the boys emerged through another tapestry and Hermione noted they were now only two hallways away from the portrait of the Fat Lady.

"You should get a move on though, Fred," said George as they kept walking, appearing to be continuing their conversation from before. "At least talk to the girl. Be civil."

Fred only scrunched his nose.

They stepped through the portrait hole, arms full of food and Hermione watched as people cheered.

It didn't take long until Harry, Ron and she herself entered, and had the room fill with even more cheers. Lee let out some fireworks which sparkled nicely against the banner Dean Thomas had made.

She watched as their fellow Gryffindor's urged Harry to open the golden egg he'd won from beating the Hungarian Horntail during the first task. Harry complied.

A horrible noise filled the room.

 _Holy Circe,_ Hermione thought and clutched her hands to her ears _._

"Shut it!" Fred bellowed, his ears also covered.

Harry slammed the egg shut.

When the shock of having their eardrums tortured subsided, the others began interpreting the eggs meaning and trying to figure out what the second task could be. As the speculating voices filled the room, Fred grabbed a plate of desserts. He glanced to where Hermione sat, took a deep breath, and put on a polite smile.

"Want a jam tart, Hermione?" he said.

Though but of age fifteen, she'd known better than to trust a Weasley twin. Especially when he suddenly called her by her first name.

 _At least now I finally know why…_

Her younger self looked doubtfully at the plate he was offering her. Fred grinned.

"It's all right," he said. "I haven't done anything to them. It's the custard creams you've got to watch-"

Neville, having just taken a bite out of a custard cream, choked and spat it out. Fred laughed.

"Just my little joke, Neville…"

 _No,_ Hermione realized. _He wasn't just joking around…he was being nice to me…_

Her younger self took a jam tart. Then she said, "Did you get all of this from the kitchen, Fred?"

"Yep," said Fred, grinning at her again. He seemed happy she continued speaking to him. In a high-pitched voice he began imitating a house-elf. "'Anything we can get you, sir, anything at all!' They're dead helpful…get me a roast ox if I said I was peckish."

"How do you get in there?" mini 'Mione asked him, in a casual sort of voice.

"Easy," said Fred. "Concealed door behind a painting of a bowl of fruit. Just tickle the pear, and it giggles and-" He stopped and looked at her suspiciously. "Why?"

"Nothing," she said quickly, hiding her blushing face behind a curtain of curls.

Fred grinned.

"Going to try and lead the house-elves out on a strike now, are you?" said George, who'd been standing nearby, obviously happy that his twin had taken his advice. "Going to give up all the leaflet stuff and try and stir them up into rebellion?"

Several people chortled. 'Mione didn't answer.

 _That had actually been my plan, silly as it might have sounded…Though, I still fail to see how it's_ _ **funny**_ _…_

"Don't you go upsetting them and telling them they've got to take clothes and salaries!" said Fred warningly, but Hermione could spot the teasing glint in his eyes. "You'll put them off their cooking!"

Then, an outburst of shocked exclamations followed by ones of hilarity as Neville turned into a large canary.

"Oh- sorry, Neville!" Fred shouted over the laughter, "I forgot-it _was_ the custard creams we hexed-"

When he spotted 'Mione laughing along, Fred's grin grew even wider.

Neville turned back into a human after a moment and was equally as entertained as the rest of the house.

"Canary Creams!" Fred shouted to the excitable crowd. "George and I invented them- seven sickles each, a bargain!"

The scene shifted.

The boys were in their dorm, and the discarded watch on one of the nightstands told her that it was two in the morning.

It was the first time Hermione saw the twins' dorm. It was very similar to how Harry and Ron's room had looked.

 _I suppose it's a boy thing to be messy._

Kenneth Towler had already pulled his curtains, but Fred, George and Lee were chatting excitedly.

"You sold plenty of the creams today," said the Quidditch commentator.

"Yeah, who knew Neville eating one would help us market them," said George.

Lee yawned and bid them good night. He pulled his curtains closed and short thereafter, tiny snores were heard.

Fred and George lay down on their beds, their own curtains opened just enough so they could keep talking.

"Thank you," said Fred.

"For what?"

Fred didn't answer but George gave a nod in understanding. "She seemed to have fun. You make her laugh, you know."

Hermione swore she saw Fred's cheeks turn scarlet. "We make everyone laugh."

"Yeah, but she's not everyone. It matters. And she makes you smile too."

"Since when d'you become such a romantic?"

Now George turned silent.

Fred looked at his twin. "This wouldn't have anything to do with Ang-"

"Oh, would you look at the time. Best sleep. Night, Fred," said George and closed the final gap.

The walls dematerialized to quickly be rebuilt differently.

Hermione looked around. It was another late one in the Gryffindor common room.

Fred and George whispered to each other as they emerged from the door leading to the boy's dormitories.

"We could use another owl," said George.

"Well, I suppose…let's find our brother then," said Fred.

They scanned the room.

"But it might take weeks to work it out!" said Hermione, sitting by a table with Ron and Harry. "You're going to look a real idiot if everyone else knows what the next task is and you don't!"

"Leave him alone, Hermione, he's earned a bit of a break," said Ron. He placed two cards from his deck of Exploding Snap on top of his castle of cards and the whole lot blew up, singeing his eyebrows.

Fred snickered. "Brilliant."

He and George approached the trio.

"Nice look Ron…go well with your dress robes, that will," said Fred.

They sat down at the table with the fourth years, while Ron touched his face, trying to appraise the damage.

"Ron, can we borrow Pigwidgeon?" asked George.

"No, he's off delivering a letter." said Ron. "Why?"

"Because George wants to invite him to the ball," said Fred sarcastically.

Both Hermione's grinned, both unnoticed by the others.

"Because we want to send a letter, your stupid great prat," said George.

Ron narrowed his eyes on the twins. "Who d'you keep writing to, eh?"

"Nose out, Ron, or I'll burn that for you too," said Fred, waving his wand threateningly.

Ron soured, while Harry kept watching the exchange, his book lying forgotten in his lap. Fred's gaze drifted over them quickly, lingering slightly on Hermione's younger self.

"So…" he began, changing the subject. "You lot got dates for the ball yet?"

"Nope," said Ron.

"Well, you'd better hurry up, mate, or all the good ones will be gone," said Fred.

"Who're you going with, then?" said Ron, his eyes quickly darted to where 'Mione sat. Apparently, he hadn't forgotten about the hot chocolate incident.

Fred noticed his brother's stare. "Angelina," he said. He wasn't blushing, but looked rather calm about taking a girl to the ball.

Hermione found she thought he behaved quite maturely, and recalled having been impressed by this at fifteen as well. Even Viktor had appeared nervous when asking her, and he'd been older than Fred.

"What?" said Ron, taken aback. "You've already asked her?"

"Good point," said Fred. He turned and called across the room. "Oy! Angelina!"

 _And there went that maturity again_ , Hermione thought but laughed just the same. Her counterpart, however, was scowling at the loud Weasley twin.

Angelina and Alicia, who had been talking near the fire, looked over at their teammate.

"What?"

"Do you want to go to the ball with me?"

Angelina gave Fred an appraising look. She agreed and turned back to Alicia, continuing their chatting.

"There you go, piece of cake," Fred told Harry and Ron. He avoided looking at 'Mione, though.

 _Interesting…_

He got up, gave a yawn which Hermione observed as fake, and said, "We'd better use a school owl then, George, come on…"

They climbed out the portrait hole.

Blimey, Hermione had forgotten all about George. She paced next to the twins as they made their way to the Owlery. George had been surprisingly quiet during the whole exchange and now she saw the way the boy clenched his jaw.

They began climbing the steps leading to the owls when George stopped, causing his brother to stagger into him.

"What was that, Fred?"

"What was what?" said Fred as he grabbed the railing.

"Don't play stupid with me! Why didn't you tell me you were planning on inviting Angie?"

"Angie, is it now?"

The glare George shot over his shoulder wiped out whatever grin that had been spreading through Fred's face.

Fred rubbed his neck. "Well…it wasn't entirely planned, if you get me. So there was no real time for me to tell you."

George sighed. "Are you honestly saying you invited her on a whim?"

Fred shrugged. "She's a nice girl, sure you'd agree. And it would probably be the most fun to attend the ball with one of your best friends."

Something about the last word made George snap out of whatever temper he'd been in. He blinked as if realizing how he had behaved, and got very red.

"Yeah," he said, continuing up the steps, his back turned to Fred and Hermione.

Fred smiled, looking as if he'd just had a theory confirmed. He followed his brother up the stairs. "And I wanted to show the boys that it's not that big of a deal, of course. They need guidance."

George laughed. "I'm sure you inspired them. Knowing Ron, he'll probably shout at the girl he's asking, too."

They reached the top.

"I didn't shout," said Fred.

"You literally shouted 'Oy' to her," George scanned for a school owl. "You know, you pretend to be this confident bloke, but you didn't even have the balls to ask Granger to the…well, Ball."

Fred took out a letter from his pocket and pointed it threateningly at his twin. "Hey! Do not drag my balls into this!"

George snatched the letter out of his hands and attached it to a barn owl wearing the school sigil. "Look, I know you're thinking about Ron's feelings and such, but I'm telling you that this was probably your chance. You could have spent the evening together, dancing close, and maybe end up under a mistletoe or two. Really sweep her off her feet."

"Who's to say she even would have said yes if I asked her?" Fred challenged, but then shook his head. "No, that's a silly question, of course she would have said yes."

George exhaled loudly. "No wonder you haven't made any progress! You're not scared, you're in fact so bloody confident that you won't even make a move! Blimey, Fred, maybe you should realize Granger's not going to wait around forever. Even Viktor Krum's been spending more time with her than you lately. From what I hear he's in the library all the time."

Fred muttered something that sounded pretty rude, but before Hermione had time to figure out exactly what it was, she was transported to a different location.

* * *

~o0o~

* * *

 **A/N: Greetings!  
I just want to thank you for all of your kind reviews and tell you it means a lot to have you take the time and put into words how you feel when reading this story. And yay! I made you feel things!  
And to all the new followers; hello! Awesome to have you join!**

 **Next chapter is going to be the Yule ball and I can't wait to see your reactions!  
Hope you enjoyed this one and thanks again!**

 **Until next time!  
/Primrue**

 _ **P.S. We all lost an amazing actor yesterday, but the Harry Potter family also lost its Professor Snape…Rest in peace, Mr. Alan Rickman. You will be missed. Always.**_


	9. Fourth Year (part two)

Fourth Year (part 2)

* * *

~o0o~

* * *

The sudden burst of sunlight blinded her temporarily, but the shrieks and laughter echoing across the grounds were received quite clearly.

Hermione blinked and waited for her eyes to adjust. The weather was very similar to the one she had experienced earlier that afternoon in real life; a fresh coat of snow lying mostly untouched and the sky empty of clouds. The exception was that her view now included Harry and the Weasleys engaging in a snow ball fight.

Harry was chased at the moment by Ron throwing snowballs at him, the latter howling a battle cry worthy any Centaur, while the former did his best to keep his friend at bay.

Hermione smiled as Harry narrowly dodged one of the snowballs, but in doing so lost his footing and stumbled into Ginny. He clutched the redhead for balance as she blushed.

"Sorry," he said.

Ginny gazed into his green eyes, her face scarlet. Then, she snapped to, took the snowball in her hand and crushed it against the top of Harry's head. "That's all right."

They laughed.

Removing her attention from the most certainly future Mr. and Mrs. Potter, Hermione spotted herself sitting down on an aged bench. Her nose was red from the cold.

"Granger, you'll freeze if you stay put like that," said Fred, who stood a few paces away.

Her younger counterpart merely cocked her head to the side and conjured one of their signature blue flames, and put it in a jar.

"Always got to have the last word, don't you?"

Hermione shook her head. "No, that would be you, Fred."

He grinned. "Oh! Right you are."

He rejoined the fight when Ginny sent him a ball of snow to the stomach and the others continued throwing and hexing snow at each other and managed to build several forts before 'Mione decided to head back to the castle.

"I'm going to go get ready for the ball," she said.

Ginny stopped sending snow at Fred for a second to tell her she would join her later.

"What, you need three hours?" said Ron to mini Hermione. A large snowball hit him on the side of the head. George prepared to send him another one, when Ron continued, yelling after her now, "Who're you going with?"

She left without answering.

"Ouch," he said when she disappeared. He glared at the others. "Which one of you gits was it?"

"Charming, Ron. And you wonder why she won't tell you," said Ginny.

"You know it then, Gin?" said Fred.

She raised an eyebrow at her brother. "Yes. But it's her business, so you won't be any more successful getting it out of me."

"Oh, really?"

The twins took it as a challenge and soon snow was once more flying all over the place, starting the whole snowball war again.

The white was traded for red.

Harry just passed through the common room with Parvati, and Hermione saw Fred give the nervous boy a wink.

When Harry, Parvati and Ron were out the portrait hole, Angelina came out of the girls' dorm wearing a gorgeous, dark purple dress.

Her date let out a low whistle.

"Pinch me, I think I'm dreaming; you look absolutely stunning, Miss Johnson," said Fred and took her hand.

She grinned at the compliment. "Don't get any ideas, Mr. Weasley. As fun as I imagine this evening will be, I'm only doing this as a favour."

They were out into the hallway now.

Fred blinked at her. "You sure know how to bruise a man's heart, don't you?"

She rolled her eyes. "Oh, please. You know we're only going as friends. Not to mention you looked so desperate when you asked me, I couldn't help but take pity on you. _And_ I _might_ also have seen it as a chance to get even from when you got me the library book and needless to say; I took it."

Fred laughed. "That's a shame. I had another favour in mind, relating to my brother and Hogsmeade actually…" He trailed off and watched her reaction.

Slightly red, the Gryffindor Chaser avoided his hinting stare. "Oh, speaking of your brother; there's George and Katie!"

They spotted George and his date standing in the Entrance Hall. It was packed but Hermione supposed that the red hair made them easy to distinguish from the crowd.

"Ange, you look amazing," Katie Bell beamed at her friend when they approached. "Doesn't she, George?"

George smiled brightly. "Yes, she really does."

Katie and Fred exchanged knowing looks.

"Thank you," Angelina said. "You too."

Hermione wasn't sure whether she was referring to George or Katie, but gave the matter no further thought as she instead couldn't help but marvel at seeing them all so young; it made her heart soar and ache at the same time. Every other second, Angelina and George's pained expressions would unbiddenly flash before her eyes, a cruel reminder that as soon as she plunged out of the Pensieve, those were the faces she would see, not these bright ones.

"Let's go find Lee and Alicia so we can get this party started," said Fred. He held his arm out to Angelina who took it.

She leaned into his ear as the group began to walk. "I forgot to mention, I saw Hermione earlier. She looked amazing too."

Fred coughed loudly and some people around them turned their heads. "I don't know what you're talking about," he muttered.

Angelina raised one of her dark eyebrows. "No wonder you boys get caught all the time. You are horrible liars."

"No, that's just Fred, really," said George in front of them.

Angelina smiled, while Fred aimed a playful punch at his brother.

The scene switched.

"Roasted potatoes! You know, I could get used to this," said George as he watched the food appear on his plate.

Angelina and Katie laughed. Lee was sitting on George's other side, busy being scolded by Alicia for taking her pork chops.

Fred, who sat next to Angelina, looked at the top table. His date traced his stare.

"Wow, I think that's the first time I've seen Krum even close to smiling," she said.

"Surprising, since that means he's either deaf or the only other house-elf activist in the world," said George, chewing on a piece of chicken.

Katie laughed.

"Don't be mean," said Angelina, but her grin betrayed her.

"Never would have suspected he was the one who asked Hermione, though, got to admit," said Katie.

Fred smiled. "She looks like she's having a good time."

Angelina and George traded a worried glance.

George leaned in, careful to avoid having the others overhear. "Are you sure you're all right, Freddie? You know, about her going with Krum?"

"'Course," he answered. "She deserves to relax and have a good time."

George frowned. "You are being scarily mature right now for someone who's been pining for her these past months."

Fred waved him off and ordered a plate of pork chops for Lee. Alicia thanked him, relieved to have her plate to herself again.

The tables disappeared and Hermione knocked into several people. Or rather, _through_ several people.

The Weird Sisters were playing a rather fast and upbeat song, and the crowd danced enthusiastically.

Next to her, Fred offered his hand to his date. "How about we give them a show, Ange?"

"Thought you'd never ask, Freddie."

They began spinning and twirling at great speed and were gradually creating an empty space around them: people looked afraid of getting too close and injure themselves. Hermione, needing not to worry about that, slightly jogged after the exuberant dancers.

They managed to steer their dancing whirlwind to where 'Mione and Viktor were dancing.

"You look beautiful, Hermione," called Angelina with a bright smile. The fourth year's cheeks turned red. Angelina grinned and when she came in from a twirl she elbowed her date. "Doesn't she, Fred?"

"Oof," was all he said as the air was knocked out of him.

Viktor and 'Mione were no longer in sight.

"Blimey, that hurt, Ange," said Fred after coughing a few times.

She didn't look too bothered.

Time sped forwards.

Hermione heard someone shout.

"No it isn't! It's about winning!"

 _Ron_ , she realized.

Not much later did younger Hermione storm past Fred and Angelina on the dance floor.

They stopped dancing and watched her gradually disappearing figure. Fred turned to his date.

"She looked upset. _Go_ ," she said, nodding to where mini 'Mione had gone.

Fred looked toward the crowd again, seeming prepared to go console Hermione's Yule Ball self, but stopped when a certain wizard passed them.

"Hey, Krum!" he said. "Hermione went that way!"

Viktor stopped and his surly expression turned less so. "Thank you," he said.

Fred gave him a polite nod. The Bulgarian marched away.

Angelina sighed. "What are you doing? That could have been your moment."

Fred twirled her around, resuming the dancing. "There'll be more."

"Don't be so sure."

He was silent for a second, but then said, "Last thing she needs when she's upset is to have her friend's older brother confuse her. She wouldn't know what to make of it."

Angelina nodded. "I suppose that's reasonable. But there might not be more chances for you now that Krum's there instead. I mean, what if they end up together?"

Fred shook his head. "Nah. He's a cool bloke, but I don't reckon he's her type."

Angelina raised her eyebrows at her partner as he twirled her around once more. People around them immediately cleared away. "Not her type? He's a professional Quidditch player."

"Exactly."

She grinned. "So you believe that the bookworm would prefer the prankster, do you?"

"I believe-"He stopped spinning them around. "That you should take the next waltz with my dear brother."

Angelina blushed slightly. "You're changing the subject."

"No, Ange, you are." And with that he guided her right into the arms of his twin, who had stood nearby thanking Katie for their dance. George was clearly taken aback by the sudden appearance of Angelina in his embrace. He quickly recovered and helped her steady herself. However, he shot Fred glares when he thought she wouldn't notice.

As he was, he spotted something behind Fred and mouthed 'Bagman'. The twins nodded to each other in understanding.

"I'm so sorry, Angie, there's something we need to do," said George. "Save me the next dance?"

"Sure," said Angelina, looking slightly confused.

Fred and George stalked away to where Ludo Bagman had just finished a dance with Professor McGonagall.

Time sped forwards again.

"Well, I don't know what you wanted with that other man, but at least you managed to do some good," Angelina said and pointed to where Viktor and Hermione were dancing again.

Present Hermione saw that though her past self smiled, it wasn't as radiant as before. She mentally cursed Ron. So childish, accusing her of trading secrets with Viktor…

 _Not just childish, he was jealous._

And if Hermione realized it, then Fred certainly must have.

He looked to where Angelina pointed. "I suppose," he said.

George looked equally glum.

Katie sighed. "Oh, come now, you two. I bet whatever business you have with the Bagman fellow can wait a little while longer. Now, someone dance with me or I'll put dungbombs in your breakfast tomorrow."

The twins smiled.

"Can't have that," George said. He and Katie joined the crowd.

Angelina took Fred's hand and they too joined.

"I think he fancies her, Ange," said Fred as he settled his hand on her waist.

Angelina's eyes bulged.

"Not _them_ ," he hurried, indicating to where his brother and the other Chaser danced. "I think," he sighed. "I think for sure now that Ron likes Hermione."

"Wouldn't be too unlikely, given the way he's behaving towards her this evening," Angelina admitted. "But if you don't think an international Quidditch player is competition, then I don't understand why you're worried your brother would be. No offense to Ron."

Her date let a scoff escape at that last part.

"I'm not worried about him being my competition," he said. "I don't _want_ to compete against him. I don't want to hurt him." Fred smiled but there wasn't anything happy about it. "Despite everything, I do love my prat of a brother."

Angelina leaned onto his shoulder and gave a sigh. "Oh, you're too good, Fred Weasley."

He rested his cheek on the top of her head. "I know."

They were swaying on the spot as a slow song played.

"But," Angelina continued, "you do understand that people survive crushes? I'm sure it would be better to have you nip it in the bud and woo Hermione before Ron's 'fancy' turns into something more."

Fred shook his head. "You don't know Ron. He never took it well when you got something that he deemed his."

"You make it sound like she's his property."

Fred shrugged. "Just the way my brother sees things."

They continued slowly spinning around.

Angelina sighed again. "I wonder if everyone else's evening's been as dramatic as ours."

Hermione blinked a few tears away as the scene switched. She wasn't sure why she was tearing up. She wasn't even sure when she'd started doing it.

 _Focus, Granger. We're not done yet_ , she thought. After rubbing her sleeves on her face, she looked around. _Okay, so… er, the Three Broomsticks again. And Mr. Bagman has just left… oh no._

Indeed, Ludo Bagman had just left, and Fred and George looked _very_ let down…again. They took a table and ordered a couple of butterbeers.

"We need to up our methods, George," said Fred. "Being polite obviously isn't working, is it?"

"I dunno," said George. "What else's there to do?"

"Well-" Fred started, but was interrupted when a loud shout had everyone in the pub go silent.

"Who cares if he's half-giant? There's nothing wrong with him!"

Harry stood facing Rita Skeeter, looking very upset.

Having been distraught from the previous memory, Hermione hadn't noticed they were there.

Rita, as opposed to Harry, was smiling. It made Hermione's insides turn. The woman still repulsed her. Last Hermione heard, she was on her way to publish a book on Harry and another one on Snape. She didn't know which publication would be filled with most made up drivel.

"How about giving me an interview about the Hagrid you know, Harry?" said Rita. "The man behind the muscles? Your unlikely friendship and the reasons behind it. Would you call him a father substitute?"

Hermione saw Fred and George glare at the reporter, before her attention quickly shifted to the screeching of a chair.

Mini 'Mione had stood up very abruptly, clutching her flagon of butterbeer like a grenade, seeming prepared to chuck it in Rita's face.

"You horrible woman," she said through gritted teeth. "you don't care, do you, anything for a story, and anyone will do, won't they? Even Ludo Bagman-"

Rita Skeeter was looking at her coldly. "Sit down, you silly little girl, and don't talk about things you don't understand. I know things about Ludo Bagman that would make your hair curl…not that it needs it-" she added, eyeing Hermione's bushy hair.

"Let's go," said 'Mione. "C'mon. Harry-Ron…"

The three Gryffindor's left as many people around the pub stared after them.

Hermione turned and saw that George was clutching Fred's shoulder. Fred looked as if he'd been prepared to jump out of his seat.

Slowly, chatter began filling the room once more.

"The nerve of that woman," said George, letting go of his brother.

Fred seemed to have calmed down but kept glaring at Rita's yellow clad figure. "She'll go after Hermione now. I know it."

George didn't look as concerned as his brother. "I'd like to see her try. What's the worst she could get on a student like Granger? One average essay?"

Fred let his eyes leave the reporter. "Did you catch the part she mentioned about Mr. Bagman? I'm telling you, George, we need to fight dirty. He's obviously not an upstanding bloke."

"And I'm telling you, that no good will come out of lowering ourselves to his level."

There was a bang as a chair tipped over. Rita's photographer had his tongue grow rapidly and made quite a ruckus in his frantic state.

Fred cursed.

"Oh, really, Freddie? A Ton-Tongue-Toffee? They'll be able to trace it to us!"

"I can't believe he took it from her, greedy bastard," said Fred. "And don't worry, I doubt she'll make that effort for her photographer."

George smirked. "And what would you have done if she _had_ been the one to eat it?"

Fred mirrored his brother's smile, making them look even more identical. "Celebrated."

The pub was replaced with a Hogwarts corridor. Hermione turned at the sound of footsteps echoing throughout the hall.

A woman clad in emerald green robes walked along, coming to a stop when she spotted two heads of red hair.

"Ah, Mr. Weasleys!" McGonagall waved the twins over.

"My dear Minerva, have you finally agreed to join me for a drink at Hogsmeade?" Fred asked, clasping his hands hopefully.

The Transfiguration professor pursed her lips, but there was a glint of amusement in her eye. "Not quite."

George pushed his brother aside. "Then is it perchance _my_ lucky day?"

Fred rubbed his arm. "Keep away from my dame, Gred!"

McGonagall pursed her lips tighter. "Neither of you will be taking me anywhere," she said, and thereafter her expression turned solemn. "I called you over here to ask you to bring your brother and Miss Granger to my office."

This peeked their interest. "Why do you need Ron and Hermione, professor?"

McGonagall looked wearily at Fred. "I'm afraid I cannot say, Mr. Weasley. I wish I could. Now, if you would be so kind as to find them and bring them to my office within the hour, thank you."

She proceeded down the hallway, leaving the twins looking curious.

"That was odd. Where do you suppose they are?"

Fred smiled. "Knowing Hermione; the library."

They departed for the library and ignored the skeptical look Madam Pince was giving them as they entered.

The sun was setting outside, casting an orange glow on the shelves. The twins passed several before finding their targets.

The Golden Trio was sitting at a table, mountains of books in front of them. They all bore the same tired expressions.

"Oh, this is no use," said Hermione and snapped one of the books shut. The title was visible and real Hermione saw that it was 'Weird Wizarding Dilemmas', a book she had found to be utter rubbish back then. "Who on earth wants to make their nose hair grow into ringlets?"

Fred and George chose that moment to emerge from behind one of the bookshelves.

"I wouldn't mind," said Fred. "Be a talking point, wouldn't it?"

Hermione's two best friends and she, herself, looked up. 'Mione looked as if she wasn't sure she was thankful for the twins' appearance or if she would end up regretting them coming. Harry was just too tired to think anything of it, while Ron seemed confused.

"What're you two doing here?" he asked.

"Looking for you," said George. "McGonagall wants to see you, Ron. And you, Hermione."

"Why?" she said, looking surprised.

"Dunno…she was looking a bit grim, though," said Fred.

"We're supposed to take you down to her office," said George.

This made the trio anxious. They did not wish to be split up so close to the second task.

"We'll meet you back in the common room. Bring as many of these books as you can, okay?" Mini 'Mione told Harry.

"Right."

They left him to research further by himself.

As they walked through the corridors and stairs to McGonagall's office, Fred fell into steps with the bushy haired witch.

 _Is that really what my hair looks from behind?_ , Hermione thought but it was quickly followed by a shake of head. What a thing to focus on.

Her attention returned to the people ahead of her, specifically mini her since she'd started talking.

"Maybe she wants to tell us to stop helping Harry?" she was saying to Ron.

"I hope not. If she wants to make sure we don't then there's not much we can do, is there? Woman can be scarier than Snape when you cross her."

"'S true," said George with a shudder. "Remember second year, Freddie?"

"I still can't look at raccoons the same way again…"

'Mione looked up at him. "What did you do with the-you know what, never mind," she said as the twins smirked at each other.

They neared the steps to their Head of House's office, when 'Mione set a look of determination on her face.

"Well, even if she threatens to take points from our house or to send us off to live in the Forbidden Forest, I'll still help Harry," she said.

"What if she fails you in every class?" teased George.

"Then…er…"

Ron managed a laugh.

She shot her best friend a look which shut him right up. "Then I'd still help him, George."

Fred smiled. "You're very admirable, Hermione. Ah, and here we are." He knocked on McGonagall's door. "Well, this is where we leave you. If you need escorting somewhere else, don't hesitate to ask."

George leaned into Ron. "And you might need escorting to the Hospital Wing if you bring up the raccoons to her."

Ron paled while 'Mione rolled her eyes. "C'mon." She grabbed his sleeve to face the door.

When McGonagall opened to let the two fourth years in, Fred and George were already around the corner.

"'If you need escorting somewhere else…?' Blimey, Fred…" said George.

"I'm testing the waters. Since she didn't hex me, I'm going to assume it would be safe to joke about taking her places."

"You're not even planning on taking her places, what's the point?"

"Well, yes, because of our dear brother, I'm not, but I can still dream, can't I?"

"You're pathetic, you know that, right?"

Fred sneered at his brother. "Yeah, because the progress you and Angelina are making is so much better. Tell me again, how was it to share the one dance with her?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," said George who suddenly sped ahead towards the Gryffindor Tower.

"Now who's pathetic?" Fred shouted after him.

* * *

~o0o~

* * *

 **A/N: Hello, everyone!**

 **I CAN'T BELIEVE THIS STORY HAS REACHED OVER 100 FOLLOWERS!**

 **I never expected this when I first published the prologue! Over a hundred people want to keep reading this story,** _ **my**_ **story! That's insane! Just, wow, THANK YOU FOLLOWERS! THANK YOU!**

 **Thank you also, of course, to all of you who favorited!**

 **And lastly, thank you as always for your kind, encouraging words in your reviews! They make me so happy! (that happiness helps fuel my writing so extra thanks for that)**

 **Now for info on the story: There will be one more part to Fourth Year, and I'm sorry if you've grown tired of waiting for the different parts, but there was just so much I wanted to include so I decided to keep it all in there instead of shortening it in order to have less chapters. (Fifth year is going to be insane…Order of the Phoenix is basically THE Fremione book)**

 **Speaking of, when I first started I hardly thought this would become more than 10, maybe 15 chapters…But the way things are looking I might be going as far as 30. We'll see, but if you wished for this fic to last a while, well, your wish has been granted.**

 **Hope you enjoyed and continue to enjoy in the future!  
Until next time!  
/Primrue**


	10. Fourth Year (part three)

Fourth Year (part 3)

* * *

~o0o~

* * *

Hermione found herself standing on some sort of stand. Glancing around, she saw that she was at the edge of Black Lake.

Ludo Bagman's voice boomed across the place as he signaled for the contestants to start.

She looked to her sides and saw Fred, George and Ginny standing on their toes, watching anxiously as Harry plunged into the cold water some distance from where they were.

"I hope he's going to be all right," Ginny said.

"I just wonder why we're made to watch an event from here when the entire thing is taking place underwater," said Lee, standing behind them.

Fred and George laughed.

Ginny did not appear to be in the mood for jokes. "Where are Hermione and Ron? Their best friend is in the second task and I can't see them anywhere."

Her brothers looked at each other, eyes wide. "You don't think-"

"-perhaps she did-"

"-that means we did this-"

"-and Harry's going to kill us."

Ginny had enough of their twin language. "What are you on about?"

Just then, Ludo Bagman used another _sonorus_ charm, silencing the entire audience.

"The contestants are all underwater, attempting to complete the second task. As they are, I am going to explain the task again to remind you of what is occurring under the surface of Black Lake."

Everyone looked expectantly at the former Quidditch athlete.

"The four contestants have one hour to retrieve their one most prized possession, what they value above all else. To do this, they will have to face whatever obstacles are hiding within this lake, and return before time runs out."

Murmurs erupted amongst the stands.

"So you reckon Hermione and Ron were asked to be Harry's possessions then?" said Fred.

George bit his lip. "Well, Bagman said they only had one, didn't he? Makes me wonder if some other contestant has one of them."

"And since no one sane could possibly deem Ron as their most valuable person except for Harry, then that means..." Fred trailed off and his brother waited for him to catch on.

"Oh, sodding Hippogriff," Fred swore. "Bloody Bulgarians..."

George patted him on the back. "There, there."

Fred raised his hands in disbelief. "But they just met!"

Ginny scoffed. "You don't understand anything, do you?"

Her brothers looked at their sister with interest.

"What don't we understand, Gin?"

"Krum is an international Quidditch player," she started. "He's also known as an exceptional student at Durmstrang. There are loads of people eager to take advantage of his name and status; just look at Karkaroff. Not to mention his heap of giggling fans."

George hummed. "Right, we know all that, I'm just not seeing the point yet."

Ginny clucked her tongue impatiently, like she had to explain how one plus one equaled two. "Well, how would you feel if everyone around you seemed to only be after to gain something from you?"

"Pretty shite, I suppose," said Fred.

His sister nodded approvingly. "Right, and who do we know that doesn't give a trolls arse about someone's Quidditch trophies?"

"Language, Ginny," scolded Lee jokingly, but he too appeared curious.

Ginny sent him a glare for interrupting her, but sighed as none of them dared a real guess.

"Hermione," she explained. "That's probably why she's down there. She doesn't care about his fame. And did you also stop to think that about how sad it is that she's his most prized possession? Because that means he doesn't have _any_ close friends from his school at all. That means that the most decent person he's met, in his life _ever_ , is a girl he's known for a couple of months."

Fred, George and Lee took a moment to absorb this new information about the professional Quidditch player. Hermione observed that while George and Lee looked earnestly sympathetic, Fred seemed reluctantly so. Like he wanted to _not_ feel bad for Viktor but couldn't quite manage.

"Bloody hell, that _is_ sad," said Lee finally.

Luckily, it didn't take too long after that that the crowd got excited again. Ginny's speech had left the small group in a subdued mood, and the lack of action from above the surface hadn't helped. Honestly, what had the tournament planners been thinking?

There was a loud gasp from the lake.

Fleur Delacour emerged from the water, looking less like her beautiful self; covered from head to toe in cuts.

The French girl gave a hysterical cry when Madame Maxime stepped forward to escort her to Madam Pomfrey. It was difficult to understand what she was saying, especially since she was rambling in French.

When Madam Pomfrey offered her some help, she shook her blonde hair furiously, but at least switching to English when she spoke.

"Non, I have to go back! She's still down there! I 'ave to rescue my leetle sister!"

Ginny snorted. "Dramatic much?"

Fred raised a brow at his sister.

"Oh, come on, she can't seriously think Dumbledore would let them drown under there, can she?"

"Well, I don't know, Gin, Dumbledore's done crazier things..." said George.

"Fair enough," she said. "Still...Merlin, look how she starts crying! Honestly."

Time sped forwards, and this time Cedric Diggory swam towards the bank of the lake, Cho Chang holding onto his arm.

"It's already outside of the time-limit, what d'you suppose happens to them if they haven't returned?" asked George.

"Diggory just arrived, though," said Fred.

"Yeah, but that was just one minute, wasn't it?"

Lee pointed to the bank. "Looks like your brother is beginning to worry about this as well."

They looked to where Percy stood talking to Cedric.

"Oh, don't tell me the daft prat hasn't realized Ron's down there until now?" said Fred.

"Ron was there?" the bespectacled Weasley said rather loud, his question echoing across the valley.

Cedric and Cho looked like they were explaining something through their rattling teeth.

Madam Pomfrey pulled them to her, reprimanding Percy for not letting them rest after their ordeal.

Percy, meanwhile, had started to turn quite pale.

Ginny gave a squeal. "Look, someone else is arriving!"

The crowd watched with curiosity as a shark broke the surface.

"Bloody Merlin, are there sharks in Black Lake?" shouted someone that sounded suspiciously like Lavender Brown.

The rest of them erupted in 'oh's and 'ah's as the shark turned into Viktor Krum.

They then spotted the figure that was coughing next to him.

"Hermione!" said Ginny.

"Merlin, it is Granger!"

"-bookworm Granger is Krum's most prized possession?"

"What does he even see in her, she's not even pretty."

"-she's so lucky-"

"They did go to the Ball together..."

"I thought she was with Potter, though-"

"-maybe he's with her out of pity?"

Hermione let a growl escape as she heard the crowd talk about her. She heard something similar to her right and realized Fred had been annoyed by it as well.

Ginny looked behind her and told the people closest to shut up.

The students watched Viktor help her get safely to the beach and how once they arrived, he held her close for a while. This had them babbling even more than before.

To her left, George sighed, and Hermione turned her attention back to the stands. Fred was looking like he was sucking on a piece of lemon.

"-I wonder what Krum's saying?" said someone nearby.

Hermione squirmed as she remembered Viktor murmuring things into her ear in Bulgarian and then proceeding to invite her to spend the summer with him. Embarrassed as she was by this public display, she'd stayed still in his arms because she'd liked Viktor and it had felt good to have someone hold her that way.

Now, though, this gesture held a lot more significance. While Viktor _had_ told her that he'd never felt the way he felt about her about anyone else, she'd never quite let herself believe it. Surely, there were more people in his life to care about? But Ginny's words earlier made sense, and Hermione scolded herself for being so blind.

How had she not caught how relieved Viktor had been when he held her? How had she not stopped to suspect that his foreign whispers probably were words used to comfort himself with the fact that she was safe? Or even paused to notice how tenderly he'd wrapped her in the towel Madam Pomfrey gave her?

 _I've been so blind about so many things,_ she thought, and without meaning to, glanced up at the tall boy beside her. He was still making a face, looking quite ridiculous, but the sight made her smile.

 _So, so blind…_

Loud shouting interrupted Hermione's thoughts.

Harry had arrived.

She heard Ginny give an audible sigh. "Of course he had to go rescue the other one as well. He loves being the hero, doesn't he?" But even as she said it there was an unmistakable smile on the girl's face. After all, him being so good was what she loved about The-Boy-Who-Lived.

"Well, Delacour seems to appreciate it at least," said George. "And blimey Percy, stop embarrassing yourself."

Their brother had ungracefully made his way out into the water to meet up with Ron. He splashed and huffed, and dragged a very annoyed Ron to land while Harry walked behind them, reuniting Fleur with her sister.

Harry was bombarded with care and force fed potions by Madam Pomfrey when mini 'Mione stepped up to him, waving her hands excitedly.

"Harry, well done!"

Someone snorted nearby.

"Poor Krum, though. Granger seems to only have eyes for Potter," they said.

"Now that you mention it, didn't Witch Weekly say they were involved?" another asked.

"You know most of their stuff's rubbish."

"Yeah, but look-"

There was a pause.

"Oh, I can't believe it, she waved Krum off! You know, you might be right, there could be some truth to this…"

When Hermione flipped around, eager to spot who would be daft enough to believe her and Harry could be more than friends, they were no longer speaking and so she had no idea how to find them.

Then again, she recalled how all the hateful mail would trickle in after this event, claiming just that; that Harry and her had been an item and that she'd crushed the poor boys heart.

However, these were her peers. People she'd gone to school with. The people sending her hate mail only had the magazines to go by. The idea that ones close to her would believe…Hermione stopped and thought about Mrs. Weasley. _She_ had believed in those lies.

The memory made Hermione uncomfortable.

Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted George lean into to whisper something into Fred's ear. She sighed.

 _They're always whispering, it's getting kind of difficult keeping up._

"-at's Krum, Ron and now Harry. You sure do know how to pick them, Freddie," she heard George tease.

Fred didn't say anything, but his eyes had a tired look to them.

Ginny suddenly growled. "Bloody French."

The three boys and Hermione peered down to where Fleur was giving Harry kisses on his cheeks.

The next memory played out in a Hogwarts hallway.

Hermione followed when Fred walked a few steps before breaking into a grin and waving at a person ahead of him.

"Oy, Granger!"

Hermione saw herself arriving at the doors leading to the Hospital Wing. She looked close to tears, clutching her hands.

"Hi, Fred. Sorry, but I've got to-"

"What's wrong? Did something happen?" he interrupted.

If she had been in her proper state of mind, real Hermione was certain she would have noticed the worried look the older Gryffindor was giving her, but alas, the pain from undiluted bubotuber pus had made her head fuzzy and unfocused at the time.

She remembered wanting the conversation to be over, to dismiss him in the least rude way possible and get help from Madam Pomfrey.

"Just got some nasty mail from Witch Weekly's finest readers. Again, Fred, sorry but I've got to get some help-"

That's when he saw her hands.

"Blimey, Hermione! What happened to your hands they're huge!" he said and laughed.

 _That right there is part of why I never suspected anything! How can someone claim to be interested in me while simultaneously laugh at my hands turning big?_

Younger Hermione's nostrils flared and tried to blink away the tears threatening to escape. Fred obviously realized he'd said something wrong, but before he got the chance to apologize she'd entered the room and slammed the door shut in his face.

Before the scene drifted away to another, there was an image of Fred scratching his head, looking very sorry.

They were outside, walking up the steps to the Owlery.

George was trailing after his twin, seeming desperate.

"I told you it's a bad idea, Fred."

Fred shook his head. "No, George, it's the _only_ idea. This," he raised his hand which held a sealed envelope, "is the last one where we ask him nicely. After this we tell him to hand us the money he owes, or we'll let everyone know about his little past-"

"-that's blackmail, that is, we could get into a lot of trouble for that-"

"-we've tried being polite; it's time to play dirty, like him. He wouldn't like the Ministry of Magic knowing what he did-"

George moved his hands in frustrated gestures. "I'm telling you, if you put that in writing, it's blackmail!"

"Yeah, and you won't be complaining if we get a nice fat payoff, will you?", Fred barked back at him over his shoulder.

He slammed the door open, then climbed over the threshold with George stepping up next to him. The twins were startled silent when they discovered the room wasn't empty.

Harry, Ron and Mini Hermione was standing there, appearing equally surprised.

"What're you doing here?" Ron and Fred said at the same time.

"Sending a letter," said Harry and George in unison.

"What, at this time?" said Hermione and Fred.

Fred grinned.

"Fine-we won't ask you what you're doing, if you don't ask us," he said.

Hermione saw Harry and Ron trying to spot who the letter was addressed to, while she herself blushed annoyed, averting her gaze when Fred shifted to look at her. She'd still remembered about the Hospital Wing and thought his questioning eyes had to be told that she was still cross with him.

How petty it seemed now.

Fred didn't seem too put off. In fact, his grin remained intact throughout his mock bow, all up until Ron asked him who the twins were blackmailing.

After telling their younger brother to stay out of their business, and sending one of the owls off with the letter, they left the three fourth years.

Descending the steps, they began talking again.

"Now that wasn't suspicious at all, was it?" said George sarcastically.

"Don't go putting that on me, George. They heard both of us talking."

"Yeah, about _your_ idea."

"Well, don't you want to open the joke shop? Focus on the dream, keep that goal in mind," said Fred. "If we get the money, it will all be worth it."

"Of course I want the joke shop, but blackmail…" George shook his head. "That's not the way to go."

Fred sighed. "What else is there? Wait until someone's kind enough to just hand us a bag of galleons?"

Hermione almost laughed.

 _Yes,_ she thought and awaited the next memory to take shape.

She stood by the Gryffindor table.

It was Mrs. Weasley and Bills visit to Hogwarts where they were to represent Harry's family, and they were in the middle of lunch at the Great Hall with Harry, Ron, Ginny, Fred and George.

"Pass me some bread would you, Gin?"

Ginny handed Fred a roll and then proceeded to eat her lunch.

Ron was stuffing his face as usual when he glanced up and caught Mrs. Weasley's glare.

"I thought I'd taught you better manners than that, _chew_ your food for Godric's sake," she said.

The rest of the lot laughed as Ron's ears turned red and even more so when he began chewing his food properly.

Though this was Fred's memory Hermione couldn't help herself when she instead of him watched her best friend for a moment. Harry looked so happy and carefree and it hurt her, because only hours after this he would yet again be facing the man who killed his parents and watch Cedric die before his eyes. But he didn't know that yet. He didn't know he'd face another three years of suffering before finally defeating his lifelong enemy.

 _But at least I made sure to be there with him, the whole way through_ , she thought and felt a small sense of pride well up. Naturally she would be there for the people she loved, but it hadn't been easy and so Hermione allowed herself a brief moment of feeling proud of her own accomplishments.

She looked sadly at Ron for a second as the reminder of his momentary weakness surfaced her thoughts, which she to this day had trouble forgiving. He'd come back, yes, but it had hurt so much. Too much. She'd loved him, _needed_ him, and he'd left.

 _Although, didn't you just do the same thing to him?_ a small voice whispered in the back of her head.

 _Don't be ridiculous, that's not nearly the same thing_ , she spat back forcefully. Arguing against no one, brilliant.

Suddenly, Harry's smile dropped when her younger self walked towards the table.

The Weasley siblings watched their mother turn her gaze towards her plate, suddenly finding the cutting of her steak more interesting than her company.

Fred, George and Ginny shared confused glances, while Ron looked embarrassed.

It wasn't until Harry began asking 'Mione a question and she silently urged him not to that Mrs. Weasley raised her head.

"Hello, Hermione," said Mrs. Weasley, much more stiffly than usual.

Hermione saw Fred furrow his brows at his mother.

"Hello," said mini 'Mione, her smile faltering at the cold expression on Mrs. Weasley's face.

Harry looked between them, then said, "Mrs. Weasley, you didn't believe that rubbish Rita Skeeter wrote in Witch Weekly, did you? Because Hermione's not my girlfriend."

"Oh!" said Mrs. Weasley. "No-of course I didn't!"

But she became considerably warmer toward Hermione after that.

Hermione also noted how Fred seemed to try really hard not to look pleased.

Then everything swirled around her before taking the shape of the Hogwarts Express. The sun shone through every nearby window and made Fred's ginger hair almost golden.

This, for whatever reason, brought a smile to Hermione's lips and she almost missed it when he pocketed his Chocolate Frog and suddenly nudged his twin in the ribs as the lunch trolley passed by.

"Look who's walking to Harry's compartment, George."

George scowled. "As if the poor kid doesn't have enough to think about. Let's see what they're up to, shall we?"

"We shall."

They hunched and began tip-toeing forward. Somewhere behind them in one of the compartments Katie's voice sounded.

"Oh, don't worry Ange, they're only sneaking about again."

"That _is_ something to worry about," Angelina laughed.

The boys didn't appear to have heard but were busy hiding themselves out of view as Malfoy's voice grew louder the closer they got.

He was spouting nonsense, Crabbe and Goyle behind him, leering.

"-Dark Lord's back! Mudbloods and Muggle lovers first!"

Fred's wand hand twitched, and George gritted his teeth.

But since he was unaware of his seniors sending him death glares, Malfoy continued. "Well-second- Diggory was the f-"

That had been the breaking point for all of them and thus there erupted an explosion of curses.

Everywhere there were colours and bangs of different volumes. Hermione blinked away the stars forming behind her eyelids.

"Thought we'd see what those three were up to," said Fred whilst stepping over the Slytherin's (and onto Goyle) and into the compartment. When his twin followed after, letting his feet slightly linger on Malfoy, Hermione felt a bit conflicted. Malfoy wasn't too bad now. But then again, she'd just seen him make a mockery of Cedric's death, so she reasoned his younger version had totally deserved it.

Everyone had had their wands out and after pocketing them, Ron, Harry and George rolled the three unconscious Slytherin's out into the corridor.

Meanwhile, Fred sat scratching a very annoyed Crookshanks behind the ears. He glanced up and smiled brightly when he saw Hermione smiling back at him. The incident by the Hospital Wing all forgotten.

She'd been too happy about catching Rita Skeeter to care anyway.

After a couple of seconds, Fred's neck began looking awfully red from where real Hermione stood. He rubbed it, cleared his throat and then pulled out a deck of cards. "Exploding Snap, anyone?"

Time sped forwards, ignoring the game and the part where the twins explained that they'd been swindled by Ludo Bagman, and stopping when Crookshanks knocked down mini Hermione's bag, causing a glass jar in it to roll out.

"What's that?" asked George, brushing away some soot from his sleeve. "Is that- Granger, why'd you have a live beetle in a jar?"

Hermione looked flustered. "Well, we're witches and wizards aren't we?"

"Sure, but you're not really going to illegally be crafting potions during the summer, are you? Because if not, then that poor bugger will probably be dead by the start of next term anyway."

Ron snorted. "Believe me, there's nothing poor about that bug."

Harry grinned. "Yeah, and Hermione isn't the one doing things illegally."

Fred put down his cards. "What're you three up to?"

Mini 'Mione bit her lip as she lifted the jar onto her lap. "Well…first, you have to promise you won't tell anyone."

The twins exchanged a look of mischief. "Oh, this is going to be good," they chorused.

She shot them a look of her own which they promptly ignored.

Harry raised his brows. "Hermione, you can tell them, you know. Dunno why you're so worried when you barely restrained yourself telling me and Ron."

"Yes, well that's because I wanted to tell you. And I don't know what they," she rolled her eyes at the twins, "will do with the information."

Ron laughed. "'Mione, you're worried they'll blackmail you for blackmailing someone?"

Fred and George's eyes bulged.

"-blackmail?"

"-Granger, who-"

"-what-"

"-now you have to tell us more!"

Never being one to pass on an opportunity to shine, Hermione began explaining.

"This, Fred and George, is Rita Skeeter. Rita; Fred and George."

Naturally the beetle didn't respond, unless you counted frantically moving around in the jar as responding.

Hermione waited for their reactions.

"So," Fred began, smiling yet looking slightly wary, "did you turn her into a beetle or was that a preexisting condition? 'Cause I tell you, if it's the latter then that explains a lot."

Hermione grinned. "I didn't turn her into this, no. I'm simply keeping her this way until we get to London."

"Then," said Fred. "how'd she get like this?"

"Well, as an Animagus I suppose you just transform-"

"Wait," interrupted George. "Rita Skeeter's an Animagus? But we've never heard about that!"

Harry and Ron smirked as Hermione tried her best to keep her face straight. "I wouldn't expect you to, seeing as how she's doing it illegally."

Real Hermione observed that she was looking to smug for her own good. Although, could she really blame herself? It had been such a good moment. And to have impressed the twins had brought even more satisfaction.

The looks on their faces when she told them about arranging for Rita to keep her hands off her quill for a whole year had completely pushed her self-conscious part aside, the part that held slightly back when achieving something, in fear of putting others off. She allowed herself to get animated and excited over her own genius.

"That," said George when she finished. "is the most brilliant thing I've ever heard."

"Truly, Granger, well done. You sure you won't consider partnering up with us? You might have what it takes after all," Fred teased.

Hermione frowned. "Let's not get ahead of ourselves."

The others laughed.

The group was about to resume another game when the two older Gryffindor's remembered they'd forgotten to tell Lee where they'd gone. They excused themselves for a moment and shut the compartment door behind them.

"You know, you two might just be meant for each other," said George.

"What d'you mean?" said Fred.

"Well, I'm sure most people would be against blackmail, but you and Granger don't seem to mind."

"Oh, shut it," said Fred, but he was smiling too widely for the words to seem threatening.

* * *

~o0o~

* * *

 **A/N: Hiya!**

 **There you have it, the end of year four! Hope it was to your liking!**

 **Please tell me what you thought!**

 **And thank you so much for reviewing, following and adding this story to your favorites!**

 **Until next time!  
/Primrue**


	11. Petty Reasons

Petty Reasons

* * *

~o0o~

* * *

The sound of running water echoed around the tiled room.

Hermione pressed her palms to her cheeks and let the coolness of them calm her down.

 _Breathe….Breathe….Brea…_

She splashed some more water onto her face.

Nowhere did it say that Pensieves would make any lasting damage or have any major side-effects on a person physically. Hermione had checked; diving into a Pensieve was harmless. So why did her head hurt and her heart ache?

She had understood that there were mental repercussions to be had though. If not for coming to this conclusion by thinking logically, or even having remembered how Dumbledore would place his sessions with Harry on Tom Riddle so far apart, there was the fact that she found she was starting to understand Harry's new attitude. Something she'd never believed possible.

Watching someone's life like this-almost being a part of it, being able to observe every last detail, going through that emotional roller coaster- Hermione finally understood how a person like her best friend could go from hating the bullying Professor Severus Snape to having deep respect and reverence towards him. She didn't like it, but she understood.

She also understood how her own memories of Fred Weasley had quickly gone from not only being fond and nostalgic but cherished as well.

Hermione sighed.

It was a lot to take in.

So much.

But not too much.

For what it was worth, Hermione couldn't possibly bring herself to stop.

 _I'm doing it for him_ , she thought. She shut the tap off and ignored the tiny selfish part within that whispered that she wasn't only doing it for Fred, letting it stay buried deep in her mind.

 _He fancied me,_ she continued thinking. _Proper fancied me. But he stepped aside, for Ron._

The reminder almost made her cry again.

What would have happened if she and Ron had sorted their feelings out earlier? Would Fred have made some other excuse or would he dared make a move on her?

How would she have reacted?

And would they be together even now?

The questions were endless, yet not all of them were new.

There had been an instance her fifth year, during Umbridge's reign, a moment where Hermione had just for a second seen the Weasley twin in a different light. A moment where she had considered…

It was during that year she'd gone from scolding and disapproving him and George to respecting them and seen that they actually respected her as well.

The year she'd realized that grades didn't equal intelligence when she, at the end of that year, had reluctantly admitted to herself that they in fact were quite brilliant, the two of them.

But that one moment with Fred… Her cheeks felt hot as she realized he might have picked that memory and added it to the vial. Whether to be excited or embarrassed over the possibility of reliving it she couldn't decide.

There was a loud knock on the door.

"Hermione, are you done? I need to get ready for bed," said Parvati.

"I'm almost finished!" she answered, jumping out of her thoughts.

She grabbed her towel and wiped away the remaining drops off her face. She let it hang around her neck, retrieved her bag of toiletries and emerged from the bathroom.

Parvati stood outside, looking impatient. That was a surprise.

The past few months the other witch had barely shown emotions at all. Unlike her sister Padma who everyone knew was an emotional wreck, Parvati carried herself with an invisible, impenetrable wall. She attended class and meals, never breaking, but it had come with a price. She never laughed anymore. She never giggled that giggle that had annoyed Hermione for years. She never gossiped or showed any interest in anything that wasn't school related.

She wasn't Parvati.

"Sorry, Parvati," Hermione said. "I hope you didn't wait too long."

The impatient look was gone and replaced with its usual expressionless one.

"No worries. I'll get in now, though, if you don't mind."

"Yes, of course-"an idea sprung to Hermione's mind. "Parvati!"

The other girl turned around. "Yes?"

"Er…would you like to join me, Neville, Ginny and Luna for breakfast tomorrow?"

The second emotion of the night made its way across Parvati's face. "Join you and Loo-Luna and Neville and Ginny? Are you sure?"

"Yes, well I know you might prefer sitting with Padma and the other Ravenclaw's but just give it a thought?"

"I don't need your pity, Hermione. If that's what you're doing, that is."

"No, not out of pity! I just-" she struggled to find the words. Wasn't it out of pity that she was doing this? Perhaps…but also, more than that: "we've been roommates for years yet we've never quite spent time together."

Parvati was quiet for a while. Then, "Okay. I suppose I could join you."

Hermione gave her a smile and tried not to take it personally when Parvati didn't return it.

Before closing the door, Parvati added, "And Hermione- we never meant to exclude you." She was talking about her and Lavender. "I-we…we were just very different people."

Hermione looked at her room mates face, searched her brown eyes and saw the look of someone who had seen too much too soon, a look Hermione knew too well. It was the look she herself had in the mirror. But it wasn't just that. Parvati's eyes were also lined with regret. Regret over time wasted. Regret over not spending time with someone because of petty reasons.

"I know."

* * *

~o0o~

* * *

Breakfast went better than Hermione would have expected.

While Neville and Ginny had accepted Parvati's presence in silence, Luna had been very vocal about how glad she was to make a new acquaintance and how she wasn't angry about all the things Parvati had whispered about her behind her back.

Hermione had been afraid this would have the dark haired girl storming off, but it had done quite the opposite. Parvati seemed to have found the honesty refreshing.

When asked she shrugged and said, "Most of the war consisted of uncertainty, fright and lies. I don't care much for whispering anymore."

When breakfast ended the group walked together for their joined Charms lesson. Parvati excused herself and went to her Ravenclaw sister while Luna stayed with her best friends, the Gryffindor's.

As they sat down at their usual seats, Hermione gave a nod to Seamus and Dean who entered the classroom. They returned her nod with smiles and sat down to her right.

"Hello, Hermione," said Seamus.

"Hi, Seamus. Dean," she added to the other boy.

"Hi, Hermione," he said. "Hello, Luna!"

To her left Luna smiled brightly.

The class got quiet when Professor Flitwick entered and began his lesson.

After spending an hour half-heartedly casting charms, all of which Hermione already had mastered, she was dismissed by their Charms Professor, along with the rest of the class.

As she gathered her things, Hermione couldn't help feeling a bit bitter about it. How was she supposed to not think about the war when she had nothing else to occupy her mind? The spells were easy, the texts took next to no time to read and even if they hadn't she wouldn't have missed much anyway by not reading them. What was there to teach her, the witch who'd hunted down Voldemort's Horcruxes and been part of his destruction? She'd lived through harsher things than what this school prepared its students for.

Hermione shook her head. Not good, she was starting to sound like Harry during fifth year.

Maybe she should, rather than fuss about her current school life, think more about her future. Her career. Elf rights and the rights of other magical creatures always were of great importance to her. Perhaps she could start from there? Not another S.P.E.W. but by entering the beast itself, the Ministry.

She gave a mental laugh when she and Ginny walked side-by-side while the others exited the classroom a few steps ahead. She'd snapped at Scrimgeour for even suggesting such a thing, but it made sense. If she wanted to change things then that was the place to start.

"What are you looking so pleased for?" asked Ginny.

Hermione blinked. She hadn't realized she'd been smiling. "Oh, just got an idea is all."

Ginny looked amused. "Can't wait to hear about it. Assuming you'll be revealing it in the not-so-distant-future rather than now?"

"You assume correct. I'll let you know when I have the details."

The other girl smiled. Then she slapped her forehead. "Blimey, I almost forgot! Bill and Fleur wanted me to tell you you're invited to Shell Cottage next weekend."

Hermione gaped. "Why would they invite _me_ over?"

"Well, it's not just you. It's me too, and Harry's coming as well. He got a weekend off. Actually that's why we're doing this. Harry doesn't get too much time off lately."

Hermione sighed. "And what do you think Ronald will feel knowing he was excluded from this? I'm afraid this might be a bad idea," she said.

Ginny shook her head. "No, look, Hermione; Mum's been hovering over Ron's head and granting him full attention for once. He'll be fine. And to be honest, Harry's been scared you would drift apart from him because of this."

"Me? I'm the one who should be worried about _them_ drifting away. They're best friends after all," said Hermione.

"You're their best friend too."

"I know, but it's never been the same way, has it? I remember how miserable Harry was during fourth year when Ron wasn't speaking to him. I'm not enough."

"Well, then it's good he won't have to choose, isn't it?" said Ginny, being protective of her boyfriend. "You'll both stay where you are and Harry won't lose any more family. Good?"

The brunette smiled despite herself. "Yes."

"Good," said her friend, pleased with Hermione's answer. "So join us for the weekend at Shell Cottage next Saturday, I've already arranged things with Professor McGonagall. Not that she could keep us anyway, since we're of age."

Hermione gave a small giggle. "I would love to see you try to explain that to her. If she had argued against us going, I mean."

"Not even I'm that bold, Hermione," Ginny scoffed. "And by bold I mean stupid."

* * *

~o0o~

* * *

That next Saturday was another clear, sunny winter morning.

Hermione stretched her tense limbs and removed the silencing charm surrounding her bed. It was one of the better sleeps she'd had in a while, but every night was unpredictable and so a _Silencio_ before bed had become routine.

She proceeded to jump out of her four-poster and into the bathroom. A quick look before exiting told her Parvati was still sound asleep, or at least that her curtains were closed.

Once inside she hurried to the shower. The hot water felt amazing and Hermione allowed herself to relish in it longer than she usually would.

It was the small things.

Her face lit up as she picked up the soap and let her thoughts drift to relive yesterday evening's activities.

Last night had been great. Being a Friday, everyone had been excited for some House activities, and when Hermione volunteered to gather some food from the kitchens everyone roared with delight. To see Prefect Granger let loose was a rare sight indeed.

Not Head Girl though. No, that had gone to Latisha Randle, Ravenclaw, after Hermione had declined. She hadn't wanted to deprive someone in seventh year of the title, and frankly she simply hadn't seen the point.

After entering the kitchen and assuring the House-elves her knitting days were over, she and Neville had carried the food along the secret route she'd seen Fred and George use.

 _"Where'd you learn that?"_ Neville had asked when the hole in the wall appeared.

 _"The twins showed me,_ " she said, thinking that it wasn't entirely a lie.

" _Pretty neat,_ " said Neville, " _just…I didn't realize you were that close."_

She'd given him a sad smile. _"We weren't."_

Neville hadn't really known how to respond, but being the person he was he didn't push the matter, especially not when his friend had looked so down talking about it.

When they arrived at the common room the party began in earnest.

Ginny performed her Patronus and let it gallop around the room while the younger students stared in awe at the pretty horse.

While it galloped by the fireplace Ginny met her eyes and gave her smile which Hermione returned. They had discussed their Patronuses not too long ago and concluded that the fact they even managed to conjure one still, had to be a sign things would be okay…eventually.

Seamus and Dean began singing and taught everyone the lyrics to "Weasley is our King", though the newer students weren't too clear on why their Quidditch Captain would be called King when she happened to be a girl.

Luna joined in the tower around nine, engaging a few in a very peculiar dance.

" _The Wrackspurts tend to stay clear if you do this once in a while_ ," she'd said, simultaneously twirling and waving her hands above her head, while Hermione tried her best not to giggle.

There was life, there was laughter. People wanted to forget. And they did for a while.

Hermione turned the knob and stepped out of the shower.

She wrapped a towel around her body and looked at the tiny, beaded bag sitting on top of the sink, her good mood draining a little. She detested what it reminded her of; the camping, the Manor, Ron splinching, the Horcuxes… yet she was thankful that it kept them alive that year on the run. And how it still allowed her to keep an insane amount of stuff in such a tiny space.

After drying herself with a drying spell, she reached down into the bag and pulled out some Muggle clothing, but with some slight difficulty since they appeared to have been squished under the Pensieve.

When emerging fully clothed she was met with Ginny waiting for her on the bed. "Looks like we match." Her ginger friend pointed to her jeans.

Hermione laughed.

They grabbed their luggage and headed for the Entrance Hall. With the exception for Sir Nicholas, they weren't met with anyone on their way. It was early on a Saturday, after all.

The great Oak doors swung open and the two girls inhaled the crisp winter air.

"You know…" said Ginny. "I hate that this place can still look so beautiful, don't you?"

Hermione looked from her friend to the vast school grounds.

"Nothing should be this pretty when so many horrible things happened here," Hermione agreed. "It doesn't make any sense."

The girls walked along the grounds, stopping only when they spotted a Thestral flying above the Forbidden Forest.

Ginny took hold of Hermione's hand from there on.

Once in Hogsmeade, they wasted no time and had Hermione Apparate both of them out of there.

Everything went black and Hermione's head felt like it was going to burst from all the pressure, but it disappeared as fast as it had begun.

They had arrived.

Shell Cottage.

And someone stood waiting for them on outside the house.

"Bill!" Ginny ignored her somewhat wobbled steps and threw her arms around her eldest brother.

"Hello, Ginny," said Bill, granting his sister a bear hug. "Where's Harry?"

Ginny let him go. "He's coming in an hour, I think. Hermione's here though."

Bill looked behind his sister.

"Hello, Bill," said Hermione, feeling slightly nervous.

That feeling faded as soon as Bill gave her his big, bright smile. "Hello, Hermione."

He reached out for a hug, but something caught his attention when he embraced her and he stepped away quickly. For some reason the eldest Weasley sibling suddenly looked incredibly pained and confused. "Say, Hermione, are you perhaps wearing a new perfume?"

"Er, afraid not. Sorry, do I smell bad?" She knew his senses were somewhat heightened since his half-turning, but could the wolf really smell her body odor? She showered this morning…

"No, it's not that, it's just…Nevermind, let's get inside. Fleur is dying to see you both." Ginny visibly fought an eye roll, while Hermione tried not to get offended Bill was keeping her at arms distance.

Well inside, they found Fleur stirring something that smelled heavenly in the kitchen. She might not do well with Mrs. Weasley's cooking but when it came to French Cuisine there was no one better.

 _Also, she's a working woman, who cares if she can cook_ , Hermione thought. Part of it might have been for her own benefit, since she was more of an academic than a domestic witch. Not that she was horrible, she could boil pasta if needed, but nothing like the dish Fleur was preparing at the moment.

The blonde woman heard the three of them enter and enchanted the wooden spoon to keep stirring. She turned and gave each of the girls a hug and a kiss.

"Welcome!"

"Thank you and thanks for having us, Fleur," said Hermione.

"Yes, thank you," said Ginny.

Though being on better terms with her brother's wife, Ginny still had some issues being too affectionate towards the French witch and therefore all her responses came across as flippant. Hermione was sure her friend tried, but it still bothered her. Fleur had been nothing but kind.

Only reason Hermione had been disturbed by her when she was younger was because she'd fancied Ron and the way he'd looked at Fleur had bothered her greatly. And…she might have been just the tiniest bit jealous at how beautiful Fleur was.

 _Another petty reason not to get to know someone._

"No troubles at all," said Fleur, looking at them. "But where is Harry?"

"He'll be along in moment," said Bill.

"Oh, well then," said Fleur, "let's make sure lunch is ready for him. He's been doing so much work during training. You'd think," she added, "that considering everything he's been through, he'd choose a happier career. Perhaps play professional Quidditch. He could join Viktor!"

Ginny gritted her teeth and tried her best not to hex her sister-in-law. "Harry likes fighting for good and keeping people safe." Her brother put a hand on her shoulder.

"We know," he said. "We just spoke about it the other day, see. That maybe he should have taken some time off, a vacation, if you will. You can't deny he's deserved it."

"No, I don't, but-"

Hermione didn't really think before she spoke up, but this had bothered her as well for some time. "You know, I can't help but agree."

There were no words to describe just how scary the look that Ginny gave her was.

Hermione gulped. "I mean, Harry's choice of career, er…I always thought he'd do well as a teacher actually. Don't you remember the D.A., Ginny?"

Her eyes were still ablaze but they softened a bit. "Yeah, he seemed very happy. And we did learn more from him than any other Defense teacher…"

Fleur nodded. "He's a very talented young man. He did save my sister, after all."

Ginny opened her mouth but before she could say anything both Hermione and Bill began speaking.

"So, what's for lunch, eh, love-"

"-you wouldn't mind if I watched you cook? So I could learn-"

* * *

~o0o~

* * *

 **A/N: Hello!**

 **I'm sorry for the delay, but I had a big test for school so I was a bit occupied studying these last two weeks.**

 **Thank you so much for the 50 reviews! Wow, amazing! Thank you!**

 **And all the people who favorited and followed, thank you as well! I'm so grateful!**

 **Hope you enjoyed this chapter!**

 **Until next time!  
/Primrue**


	12. Bill's Skills

Bill's skills

* * *

~o0o~

* * *

Harry joined them forty-five minutes afterwards.

Ginny flung herself into his arms in the hallway and the two kissed fiercely until Bill interrupted with a cough and a "Oy, big brother standing right here!".

"Sorry, Bill," Harry flushed red, but that faded as soon as he spotted Hermione lingering by the kitchen door.

"Hi," she said and gave a small wave.

Her best friend said nothing. He simply, though gently, de-tangled himself out of Ginny's arms, marched up to Hermione and put his arms around her. She gave a little sigh of relief against his shoulder.

"I'm so sorry I haven't been to see you," said Harry, still holding her tight. "It's just with Ron and work…I'm so sorry, 'Mione."

She held him equally close. "It's okay," she said.

And she knew it was, because as soon as Harry had hugged her, she knew he wouldn't leave her. He was her brother and she felt silly for having doubted his loyalty for even one second.

They stepped out of the embrace.

"It's not okay, though," Harry argued. "I don't want you to feel like I'm choosing Ron over you. We're not thirteen anymore, I can't be afraid of him lashing out on me."

Hermione had to ask. "Is he-is he all right?"

Harry looked conflicted. "He's not flying for the World Cup anytime soon, but…he'll survive."

"Oh," said Hermione. "That's good, I suppose."

Harry scratched his head. "I think it has more to do with the fact of _why_ you broke up. If it was because of some other bloke, then he'd be able to blame you, but when you told him- er, " Harry looked around the hallway where they were surrounded by Bill, Fleur and his girlfriend.

"It's fine, Harry," said Hermione.

"Chère, let's go set the table," said Fleur and gave Hermione a small smile.

"Er, right," said Bill and followed his wife out of there.

Harry looked at Ginny who snorted. "Oh, please, who do you think she talks to when you're not around? I already know everything else."

"Right," said Harry and smiled at his fiery girl. "Anyway," he turned back to Hermione. "Ron is mostly having a hard time dealing with the fact that you 'fell out of love' with him. Because there's really nothing he can do about that."

Hermione nodded gravely. "Yes, that must have been hard to hear."

"Not to mention his ego is close to non-existent already."

"Ginny!"

"What? You know I'm right, Hermione! He's so insecure! You think I never overheard you arguing with him over Malfoy during Christmas break? I spend almost every day with you at school and you barely speak to the ferret and I told him this. But did Ron listen? No. Trust me, you're not suited for one another."

Hermione sighed. "I know, that's why I broke it off, remember?"

Harry looked uncomfortable. "Well, so, Ron is basically fine, all things considered."

Hermione gave her childhood friend a smile. "I'm honestly glad. I hope you'll tell him I still want to be friends?"

"Oh, no. I don't have a death wish, and I'm sure you don't either."

The girls laughed.

They went to help themselves to lunch and as they sat down at the table, trading stories and jokes, Hermione couldn't help but feel a sense of peace she hadn't felt in a long time.

* * *

~o0o~

* * *

When lunch was finished, the guests went to their bedrooms to settle in. Ginny dumped her bag on her side of the room and told Hermione she was going to help Harry with his unpacking. Hermione wasn't sure Ginny knew how transparent her lie was, but let it slide and granted her friend escape without mocking.

She'd just placed one of the books she'd brought for some light reading on the nightstand, when someone knocked on the open door.

"Mind if I come in for a bit?" said Bill.

"No, not at all. I'm only taking out some of my things."

Bill looked bemusedly at the tiny beaded bag. "Hidden extension charm?"

"Yes, made it myself."

Bill nodded. "Very clever. A bit sneaky. Seems like something the twins would have done-"

There was an awkward pause.

Hermione pretended to be busy adjusting another book on the table.

"That's actually why I wanted to talk to you," said Bill.

Hermione froze and one second of complete panic shot through her. Did he know? Did Bill know about the vials?

But then, how could he? Hermione hadn't even told Harry or Ginny.

"Oh?" she said, trying to keep her voice even.

"Yeah," Bill continued. "I wanted to apologize for acting strange earlier. It's just that I smelled _him_ and it confused me, but then I thought about you and Ron cleaning his room and so the smell wouldn't have been too weird if you'd worn that sweater at the time and-"

"Wait, wait, Bill. Who's him?" Hermione asked, but she knew the answer before he even spoke.

"Fred."

"You smelled Fred on me?" said Hermione and felt a blush creep up her face.

Bill smiled sadly at her. "Yeah, I still smell him sometimes. Mostly on George but nowadays Ron carries a little with him. And then there's the Burrow…I just didn't expect it to come off you, is all."

Hermione sighed. She supposed Bill had smelled it because her clothes had been underneath her Pensieve. The box with the vials were next it. It must have rubbed off.

"Which is why you behaved the way you did when I arrived?" Hermione concluded.

"Yes, and again, I'm sorry."

Hermione shook her head. "It's fine. Still smelling him and being reminded…it must be difficult for you. I'm sorry." That last part was a lie. If she were to be perfectly honest, Hermione would have to admit she wasn't sorry; she envied Bill. Sure, she could smell gunpowder and fireworks, but it was only part of him. It was never the whole thing. It was never wholly Fred.

Hermione avoided the eldest Weasley's stare. She hadn't managed to bring herself to lie straight to his face, so the floor had had to do. After a moment he gave up.

"It is difficult," said Bill. "But I also count myself lucky, because it means I still have something of his to hold onto."

Hermione's eyes were pulled to her beaded bag on top of the bed.

"It's toughest on George of course, losing him…" Bill looked out of the window, but his eyes seemed to look beyond the shore. "I just…He was a good brother."

"He was a good friend," said Hermione.

She let Bill capture her gaze now. "We weren't close, but he was a good person and a good friend," Hermione repeated.

His lips gave a small quirk. "I'm sure he would've been glad to hear you say that."

Her heart skipped a beat and she wondered if Bill heard.

 _His wolf-senses couldn't possibly be that heightened, could they_?

He gave a soft laugh. "Anyways, I'll let you get back to your unpacking. Oh, and Fleur asked me to tell you there's tea downstairs if you want it later," he added and then left the room, but not before Hermione could spot a slight smirk on his face.

Hermione punched her pillow.

 _Is there anyone in this bloody family that didn't know about Fred fancying me?_

She felt humiliated about being in the dark about this for so long. Especially when it seemed like it had been bordering on common knowledge.

At least she was certain Harry and Ron hadn't known. They wouldn't have kept it from her, nor been able to. Though, Ginny knew yet neglected to tell her anything… But then again, she supposed that the redhead's loyalty to her brother overpowered the one for her friend. Hermione couldn't blame her for that.

 _Hm…_

She caught herself inhaling the hem of her sleeve.

Nothing.

Not even a whiff.

For the first and last time ever, Hermione wished she was part werewolf.

* * *

~o0o~

* * *

"Hi," said Harry.

Hermione stood behind him and watched as her best friend placed a bouquet of flowers and a sock by the stone. The sock was striped red and gold. Gryffindor colours.

"Hope you're well. I'm sorry I haven't visited in a while. I'm not allowed to go out too often, you see. I'm training to be an Auror," Harry continued. "I'll be fighting bad wizards and capturing them. I know you'd want to help, but I think you deserve a break from helping me, don't you?" The stone didn't reply, but the raven haired wizard smiled nonetheless. "I miss you, mate."

Hermione held back the sob threating to escape. She took Harry's hand as she kneeled down beside to him. With her free hand she pulled out another sock, charmed it blue and silver, and placed it next to the one Harry'd left there.

"Opposites; so they're a proper pair," said Hermione.

Harry smiled appreciatively at her.

They sat without talking, enjoying the peaceful sound of waves hitting the shore gently by the beach. The sun was setting, casting a glow on everything around, and making the horizon look like a warm place despite it being winter.

 _Magical_ …

"You know, I actually brought you out here for another thing too," said Harry after a while.

"What is that?" Hermione asked.

Harry suddenly blushed and reached into his pocket. He then placed his hand in front of her, only it wasn't empty like before.

"Harry, is that-"

"-yes."

"I'm flattered, but I think Ginny would kill us both."

"Very funny," said Harry.

"May I?"

Harry nodded. "Go ahead."

Hermione took the small jewelry box and opened it. Inside was a golden ring decorated with tiny rubies in the middle, surrounding one huge diamond.

"Whoa," Hermione breathed.

"Too much?"

"Maybe just a tad."

Harry ruffled his hair. "It was in my family vault. Think it might have been my mum's."

The sad words 'but I don't know for sure because people who would have known for sure are dead' were left unsaid.

"Well, I certainly can imagine why she would have left it in there. From all the stories Sirius told us, your mother didn't seem like the type who'd shower herself in expensive things."

"Yeah, I was thinking my dad probably bought or inherited it, gave it to her thinking she'd be impressed and then pout as she'd chuck back into to the vault," Harry laughed.

Hermione gave him a smile. "But she'd still marry him."

"Yeah," he said.

"I'm not sure Ginny will love it, but she does love you," said Hermione. "And really, that's all that matters with you two."

"So you don't think she'll chuck it in my face?"

"Definitely not."

Harry let his shoulders relax a smidge. "I want it to be perfect, though. If she doesn't like it-"

"It's perfect because you chose it with a special thought in mind. It's your mother's ring, and I'm sure that when you let her know, she'll be the happiest woman on earth." Hermione put an arm around him. "Trust me, Harry James Potter, I know what I'm talking about."

"You're aware you're single, right?"

She sent him a glare and aimed a small punch at his arm.

"Ow, Hermione," he laughed. "Ease up on the violence, will you?"

She withdrew her troops (that is to say, her fists) and leaned her head on his shoulder. "When are you going to ask her?"

Hermione knew Ginny had been waiting since before Christmas. She'd never mentioned what she thought of the ring, but she'd made her impatience very clear.

" _I don't know what's taking him so long,"_ she'd said. _"I found it weeks ago."_

"After graduation."

"What?"

"I'm going to ask her after she graduates in a few months."

Hermione nodded. "Sounds like a good idea."

Harry laughed. "That's high praise coming from you. I'll take it as a good sign."

"You should," she looked up at him. " _You_ , Harry James Potter-"

"Again with the middle name-"

"-are going to live a long, happy life with the woman you love and have many children who'll all be Quidditch prodigies. And you'll remember to invite me over for their birthdays for else I shall be a sad, old maid with twenty cats."

Her friend seemed to have found that funny and Hermione remembered him telling her stories about his childhood visits to Arabella Figg.

"Should I worry about you, 'Mione?" Harry said, a slight serious note to his question.

She shook her head. "I'll be fine. I haven't got a boyfriend any longer, but there's more to life, odd as it may sound. I think I've actually settled on a career path."

"Really?"

"Mhm, I'm going to join the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. There are so many of them being mistreated and I want to change that. It's not just house-elves and centaurs but werewolves as well. People like Remus who doesn't want to harm anyone but still can't land a decent job because of what they are. Wizards are in no way superior, and I think it's time we remembered to live in harmony, co-existing, and put the outdated way of looking at things aside."

Harry hugged her closer. "I think that's a great idea. And I think he and Remus would have been proud."

Hermione looked at the words 'Here lies Dobby, a free elf.' engraved on the stone and smiled.

"Yes, I think so too."

* * *

~o0o~

* * *

When they walked back to the house Ginny waited for them by the kitchen window and sprung out as soon they reached the door.

"I have an idea!" she said.

"Can you have the idea inside, please? I'm cold."

Ginny rolled her eyes at her boyfriend. "If you must."

They stepped inside, removed their cloaks and set course for the sitting area where Fleur had tea ready.

Hermione sipped hers while Ginny began explaining her plan.

"Diagon Alley; tomorrow. What do you think?"

"What's the occasion?"

"Nothing, just wanted to drop by the shop."

"The shop? Ginny-"

"Ron won't be there. I've already spoken with George, and Ron's going to be out all day."

Hermione bit her lip in contemplation. "I suppose…"

"Great!"

It was obvious to the others that Hermione did _not_ find this great but since she made no further objections they assumed it was mostly fine.

Ginny knew Hermione needed an explanation however. She lowered her voice.

"Ron's been telling me George has been doing well for the most part but that recently he's been feeling a little bit down…or more so than usual. I figured since we're already out of school and don't have to go back until the evening…"

Hermione twirled a lock of hair around her finger. "I understand. Just hope he's okay with me being there." She let the lock go and watched as it bounced back into place.

Ginny made an impatient sound. "No one blames you except for mum, Hermione, I told you that."

Harry nodded. "And not even she really means it. Yes, she said something about regretting making you a sweater this Christmas, but that was it."

Hermione mouth hung slightly open. "But she never gave me a sweater this year!"

Ginny glared at the bespectacled boy. "Honestly, sometimes you're no better than Ron."

Harry blinked. "What?"

His girlfriend took a deep breath. "Merlin, give me strength not to hex this incredible, amazing boy for his unfortunately non-tactical brain." Then she continued, "Hermione, mum did make you a Weasley sweater, but when she found out you had broken up with Ron she sort of…made some adjustments."

"Like?"

"Well-don't worry though, because she never sent it- but there was an 'H' on it, only it didn't stand for Hermione…it spelled out a word instead…'Heartbreaker'."

Hermione felt something snap inside of her.

"That….petty, _petty_ woman."

"Oy," said Ginny. "that's my mum you're talking about!"

But Hermione wasn't listening. "This is no different than when I was fifteen and your mother sent me that tiny Easter-egg! No wonder Ron resorted to commenting under his breath during third year, not caring if it made me cry, he learned it from your mother!"

Ginny was about to say something, but was interrupted by two people entering the room. A hand placed itself on Hermione's shoulder.

"Would you help mind helping me with something in the garden, Chérie?" said Fleur. "I think I saw some Dittany, but I can't be sure…"

As far as excuses went, this one was pretty weak. Hermione was on her way to tell the other witch no and that she had anger to unleash but something about the dark-blue eyes convinced her to follow.

They left the room with Hermione wondering if there might not be something on Veela's being able to control women after all.

Bill watched as his wife led Hermione out of the room and returned his focus to his sister.

"So, have you calmed down?" he asked.

"Me?" said Ginny.

"Yes, you. And you as well, Harry."

Harry blinked.

Bill smiled and tapped one finger to his ear. "Wolf hearing, mate. Your pulse was beating pretty hard."

"Er, right."

Ginny crossed her arms. "She's my best friend, but I won't let someone talk like that about my family."

This made her brother drop his smile. "Didn't you tell me earlier how you tried convincing Hermione that she was part of our family but failed? Can you really blame her for not believing you when you say things like this?"

"That's not the same. I…" Ginny trailed off as the words sunk in.

Bill continued, "Mum is going to hold a grudge for a while and when she comes around it would be nice for Hermione to be there, don't you think? But you can't expect her to just take everything thrown her way, so just let her vent for a moment and try not to take it too personally."

Ginny raised an eyebrow. "Speaking from experience?"

Her brother gave a wink. "Might. Obviously worked, though, didn't it?"

"Yes, yes. You have a gorgeous home and a gorgeous wife, we get it."

"Boasting again, Bill?" came Fleur's voice from the hallway. She had her arm around Hermione who, despite looking chilled from the temperature outside, looked a lot calmer than before.

"Can't help it, love," said Bill and made his scars dance as his lips pulled upwards at his wife.

Ginny pretend to be gagging at the scene when she caught Hermione's eyes and they both fell into laughter.

* * *

~o0o~

* * *

 **A/N: Hello!**

 **Thank you for reading, reviewing, following and adding this story to your favorites!**  
 **I feel truly blessed to be granted your kind words!**

 **Until next time!**  
 **/Primrue**


	13. Speak, George! Speak!

Speak! George Speak!

* * *

~o0o~

* * *

Diagon Alley was surprisingly scarce on people despite it being a weekend; the bustling alley of their youth but a memory. And though the battle had been won, it resembled the worried months before the end of the war far more than the Diagon Alley in which Hermione had bought her wand when she was eleven.

The war had been kinder to the shops and apartments filling the wizarding meeting centre than their respective occupants, though, and not much construction had been needed after Voldemort's downfall.

Astonishingly, the most damage had been made by Hermione, Harry and Ron when they'd broken in and out of Gringotts. It was still awkward going there for money, but the Goblins had so far made no attempt at their lives which the trio had interpreted as a good sign.

Hermione walked past the many shops she'd grown up with and tried to ignore the pull some of them had on her. While she would love to browse for books at Flourish and Blotts, that wasn't the reason she was here.

Harry and Ginny stared longingly at the Quidditch Supplies store window, until Bill ushered them on, Fleur holding his arm and openly criticising the robes displayed in some of the other windows.

"Orange in winter? It is times like these that I miss Paris, you wouldn't believe the robes they have there. Not like _these_."

Though liking her, Harry, Ginny and Hermione put some distance inbetween themselves and the married couple. Just because Bill had chosen to spend the rest of his life enduring the glances his loud wife was getting, didn't mean they had to.

But of course, they were already stared at plenty.

There were whispers and pointing. Several times they had to stop as people wanted to shake hands with Harry and Hermione. It wasn't too much of a bother, most of them wanted to thank the two for their fight against He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, and the only time Hermione actually got annoyed was when a pair of elderly witches had asked her why she'd ended things with Ron, seeing as how she 'wasn't getting any younger'.

"I'm only nineteen!" said Hermione, when they finally managed to shake off the witches.

"In older magical circles that's practically spinster age," said Ginny.

"Really?" asked Harry.

His girlfriend nodded. "I don't know too much about these things seeing as mum and dad aren't the most traditional purebloods around, but I've had some experience with this through a few of mum's old acquaintances growing up." Ginny shuddered and appeared to be shaking away some unpleasant memories. "Urged my mum to arrange for me to be engaged before it was too late. I was nine."

Harry and Hermione shared a look of relief over having been brought up in the Muggle world.

A few minutes later they arrived at their colourful and loud destination. The shop remained the busiest in the whole of Diagon Alley; people needed to laugh just as much after war as during, if not more.

It was with her heart thrumming hard against her ribs that Hermione approached the entrance. She was excited to meet George. She genuinely enjoyed his company, of course, but now there was also what she'd seen him do in the vials. He'd been willing to punch Malfoy for her, he had talked to Ron about Scabbers and he had been overall nicer than she'd previously given him credit for. For those reasons she also was most anxious about his reaction regarding her breaking things off with Ron. She felt it really important what George thought of her. No matter what Ginny'd said, she had to make sure he didn't despise her.

The group entered the shop and was met with the usual rowdiness it exuded. There weren't any Hogwarts kids present but young people in their pre-Hogwarts years and in their twenties seemed to find the place just as riveting.

They parted to look for George, arguing that it would be best to approach him in smaller groups at first, so as to not crowd him or make him feel cornered, but rather as if they were dropping by casually.

The couples went in different directions and Hermione found herself alone, which didn't bother her for it suited her needs. She wanted to have a chat with George without an audience.

She walked along the shelves, tracing some familiar items with a sense of nostalgia. To think she'd been there when it had been developed. When all they'd come up with so far had been Canary Creams, Puking Pastilles, Nosebleed Nougats…

"'Daydream Charms'…", she read aloud, stopping.

" _You know, that really is extraordinary magic!"_

" _For that, Hermione, you can have one for free."_

Hermione looked at the display with the charms and smiled at the memory.

It wasn't long until her reminiscing came to an end as she felt someone step up behind her, whereupon she instinctively reached for her wand.

"Whoa, easy there, Granger!"

Hermione blinked and withdrew the wand, blushing as she realized what she'd done. "Sorry, George. Old habit."

George's previously amused features darkened somewhat at the mention of her leftover reflexes from the war, but thankfully it didn't last long. He attempted a smile. "Pathetic excuse, you've just been waiting to take my other ear off, haven't you?"

Normally, this would have her feel sad, but for some reason she felt like joining him in the teasing. "Oh, you caught me," she said, holding her arms up as if caught in an act. "It's been bugging me for ages how uneven your features are. If you had to go lose an ear, at least make it both; otherwise, it just looks weird and unsymmetrical."

He laughed. An honest to Godric laugh.

Her chest swelled.

She decided to take the plunge while he was in a good mood. No reason to let the elephant linger in the room longer than necessary.

"So I take it you're not too upset with me about Ron?"

"Always eager for answers, aren't you?" said George while he rubbed his jaw, his laugh muscles no doubt out of practice. "Honestly? I was a bit put off at first, but then I had to live with Ron again, and frankly, I almost judge you for not breaking it off sooner."

Hermione winced. "That bad? Harry said-"

"Harry doesn't live with him. The first few days…Lot of anger. It's better now, think he's even started missing you. But you know Ron; he probably won't ever tell you himself. Always been a bit slow. "

"And 'has the mentality of a five year old'," said Hermione, realizing too late that she'd quoted the person in front of her.

George blinked. "…Yes. That too." It looked as if the words were familiar to him but they weren't exactly a rare thing to say so he let it go.

Hermione struggled to find something else to talk about. "So, er, is it just you working?"

George shook his head. "No, there's this boy Franklin, and Verity found her way back, bless her. Been helping me set up the things Ron doesn't know how to organize and taking some load off the work Fred usually managed."

"You didn't do everything together? I always assumed-"

"No, while we are- _were_ ," George sighed. "on pretty much the same level, I have more of an affinity for Potions while Fred's specialty was Charms."

Hermione's lips quirked. "I bet it was."

George raised an eyebrow at her joke. "You know, I've been meaning to ask-"

"There you are," said Ginny and pulled her brother into a hug, unintentionally interrupting him before he could finish his sentence. "Hermione, I thought I told you to come find us once you found him."

"I was going to but he just wouldn't stop talking," said Hermione and rolled her eyes in mock exhaustion.

Ginny's eyes widened but they almost popped out of their sockets when George laughed again.

"Okay, colour me confused. Did someone slip either of you anything?"

"Nope, sis, it's just that Hermione here has figured out that treating me like a _wounded puppy_ really isn't working," he said and looked pointedly at his youngest sibling. "Don't think I don't know why you're all here." He waved at Harry, Bill and Fleur, who attempted casualness by lingering behind by a shelf of 'Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder'. They looked a bit embarrassed when they realized they'd been caught.

Ginny frowned.

"Fine, we're here to see if our brother's doing well. Aren't we just awful people," she said sardonically.

"Didn't mean it like that," said George. "It's just…you know...I'm _fine_ , Gin," he added, looking earnest.

She crossed her arms. "Then you won't mind if we take you out for lunch?"

"I have work to do."

"Oh, hush," said his sister, almost harshly, having obviously taken to heart what he'd said about the puppy treatment. "I spoke to Verity and that other guy working here, and they said they'd have it all under control. It's just lunch, George. You need to eat."

The last part made Hermione jolt. There was apparently more than just George's mood that Ginny wanted to check on.

 _But he'd been doing so well over Christmas…he even had seconds…_

"Well, I suppose one bite wouldn't hurt. And it will hopefully get you off my back," said George.

Ginny tried to not look too hurt by that last comment. "All right, then. Let's head for Leaky. I'll go get the others."

Hermione turned to George. "Go grab your cloak, and don't try to sneak off, you know she'll make you pay."

He sighed. "Yeah."

* * *

~o0o~

* * *

Once they were seated at The Leaky Cauldron they ordered food and drinks, that is to say butterbeer and minced meat pie ('They should really add more dishes to the menu' said Fleur).

Bill got their butterbeer which they drank gratefully, the January weather having left them a bit chilled.

While they sipped the warm drink and waited for the pies, George answered their questions about the shop. He told them that reopening had been fine and that he and Fred had luckily stored enough supplies to last a while before they had been forced to go into hiding.

At the mention of Fred, the others nervously turned their gazes downwards, something which both Hermione and George noticed.

"So, as I was saying," George continued, eyeing them. "We'd sealed a storage unit and it's come in handy, since there's been a high demand for our products. We're selling mostly our old stuff, but I have some small things under development...and yeah. That's basically all there was."

Bill nodded. "Good to hear business is still good."

"Thank you. Well then," said George, clasping his hands together, "now that we've awkwardly made our way through that subject what should we talk about next, the weather?"

"George-"Ginny began.

"No, I'm sorry, maybe that topic's too sensitive."

"George, we were just asking about your work," said Bill in a calming voice.

George didn't answer but downed the last of his drink and then excused himself to the bathroom.

"Shouldn't someone go after him?" asked Hermione, whose eyes had followed his exit warily.

"You're welcome to try," said Ginny. "His mood swings have given me enough whiplashes to last a lifetime, though."

By the look of the other faces, they had experienced the same thing and felt like Ginny.

The redhead sighed. "How on earth did you manage to make him laugh before, 'Mione?"

Harry spluttered. "You made him laugh?"

"Why is that such a surprise to all of you? I can be funny!" said Hermione, flustered.

"No-I mean yeah, you can," hurried Harry. "It's just that I spent Christmas at the Burrow and George never laughed the whole time we were there. Right, Gin?"

His girlfriend shook her head. "Not a single time."

"What did you say to make him laugh," asked Bill curiously.

"Well," Hermione blushed. "I sort of pulled a joke about blasting his other ear off…for symmetricity."

"And that...worked? Merlin, I don't know which one of you is more bonkers, he for laughing or you for saying it," said Ginny.

"Hey!"

"I think it's great what you did, Hermione," said Fleur.

"Nobody asked yo-"Ginny began but her boyfriend quickly put his hand on hers, silently urging her not to lose her temper.

The food arrived and George had still not returned. Hermione grew worried, feeling as she always did when someone seemed to be in need of help; responsible.

Though knowing about his grief for a long time, Hermione had never quite felt this way before for the twin, as it had mostly been about protecting Ron after Fred died, thinking that she'd help George when she could but that he most likely were far more secure in the arms of Angelina anyway.

But Angelina wasn't here right now and there was no way Hermione could ignore George's current distress.

 _What would Fred have done?_

Hermione rose from the table and excused herself to bathroom as well.

 _What would Fred have done?_

This thought had popped up in her head ever since they had arrived at Diagon Alley. When she wondered how she would approach George, how she should treat him. And that's how the jokes had begun.

Hermione didn't joke during sad times, she comforted. But for a Weasley twin, the most comforting thing would probably be the other twin, so she'd channelled her inner prankster and found that what little was there had been enough.

 _This is why they did it_ , Hermione had thought as she watched George's lips pull upwards. _This feels amazing. And this is all they ever really wanted to bring to the world. Laughter. How childlike and pure and positively….good._

She arrived at the doors leading to the wizard and witches bathrooms and found George standing outside, leaning against the wall.

He turned his head when he heard her footsteps.

"Here to retrieve the lost puppy?"

"No, I'm here to tell you your food is getting cold, you tosser."

He started at that.

"Yeah, you heard me," said Hermione. "Your family is just worried about you, so how about stop acting like a-like a… _prick_ and come join us again."

George stared at his shoes. "Only when they stop acting like Fred didn't exist."

"Is that really why you stormed off?"

He didn't answer.

"George, they're hurting too...We all are," she added, her shoulders slumping a bit.

"No reason to avoid his name," said George.

Hermione remembered Bill the day before, saying 'him' until he had to explain whose scent he'd smelled.

"Have they been doing it long?" asked Hermione.

George nodded. "You did it too, you know."

"I did? I wasn't aware."

"Yeah, you used to do it up until recently." He looked up from his shoes, an extremely contemplative look on his face as he struggled to find the words for something he clearly had been thinking about for quite some time. "I don't know what's changed, but Hermione, something has."

"What do you mean?"

The wizard scratched his head and sighed. "Nothing…just that I'm grateful that at least one person can think about Fred and smile."

Something told Hermione that there was more George had planned on saying. Whatever it was, Hermione had no idea, but he obviously had something on his mind regarding her and Fred.

"He wouldn't have wanted people to be sad," said Hermione, as if that explained it.

George scoffed.

"Well, he wouldn't have!" Hermione tried again. She wasn't sure why, but she couldn't bring herself to say anything else, for she had the impression George would take it the wrong way. Misinterpret it.

However, the answer she'd chosen seemed to only have aggravated the wizard. He now looked at her like he was disgusted. "What do you know what he would have wanted?" George asked, his voice filled with what seemed to be accusation, like he was blaming her for something, but she had no clue what that could be.

"I…" Her own voice failed and she could do nothing but wait for the man in front of her to continue his harsh words.

"You might think you know everything Granger but you don't. You have _no idea_ who Fred was."

It was as if she'd been stabbed in the chest.

Her breath caught and a searing pain made its way across her upper body. And she knew why.

The fear she had tried her best to push aside and ignore the past few weeks had been confirmed by the twin.

That she didn't know Fred.

That she never had.

That she never would.

He was gone and no matter how many vials she looked through she'd never know him properly.

Just as she would never get to smell his scent properly.

Hear him laugh properly...ever again…

"You, George Weasley," said Hermione, recovering just enough to realize that there was no point arguing back. He was lashing out like Ginny said he'd been prone to do. "You have no idea what you're talking about either."

For a second, George, though still looking annoyed, let shock cover his face as he stared at the tears already making their way down the girl's face. No doubt he hadn't even imagined Hermione would cry over his spiteful statement.

Hermione sniffled. "Now get your mood-swinged arse back to the table before I'll have your sibling's drag you back." With those words the witch turned and stormed into the ladies' bathroom, slamming the door behind her.

She waited for a few seconds until she heard his feet shuffle away, and after casting a _silencio_ she let her tears stream freely and her wails likewise, not holding back any of the despair she'd bottled up.

 _This is so not what Fred would have done._

* * *

~o0o~

* * *

 **A/N: Hello, lovely people!**

 **Thank you so much for your reviews, I love reading them! And as mentioned before, they work like writing fuel! And thanks to your kind words I've been able to push this chapter out.**

 **And okay, so about this chapter...**

 **I was thinking long and hard about how George would be acting around Hermione and you know what? I found that if I was put in a position where my dead sibling's crush *cough* love *cough* acted like she knew everything about that sibling, though not having seen the years of pining the sibling had gone through for her: I would feel a bit bitter.**

 **True, Hermione knows about Fred's fancying her (which is why she's suddenly acting like she knows him), but George doesn't know she knows! So for him, she just looks obnoxious. Like, "Girl, don't even talk about him, you didn't see what was right in front of you."**

 **Anyway, hope that clears some confusion. I hope my writing makes that point come across, but just in case, there you go.**

 **Thanks to the many followers and people who have added this story to their favourites! You are all awesome!**

 **Until next time!  
/Primrue**


	14. Suspicions

Suspicions

* * *

~o0o~

* * *

"So, that was a complete disaster; one for the history books!" said Ginny. The girl moved the strap of her bag, switching shoulders. "Bugger," she added, when almost slipping on a patch of hidden ice.

It was snowing when Harry, Ginny and Hermione arrived in Hogsmeade, and after having bid the others goodbye in Diagon Alley they reflected back on the failed lunch.

George had apologized to all of them for his behaviour, and though none of them found his proclamation to be sincere they'd assured him they were fine. The next hour was spent picking at their plates, using stilted conversation to fill the silence, followed by Bill and Fleur escorting George back to his shop, while the rest of them departed.

Harry put an arm around his girlfriend.

"It wasn't that bad," he said, trying to reassure her.

He glanced at Hermione, who was deep in her own thoughts.

"Hermione?"

His best friend shook out of her daze. "Yes?"

"Nothing," said Harry. "Only wanted to see if you were all right."

Hermione shrugged. "I'm as well as one can be when subjected to the Weasley spite." She turned to Ginny. "Does he really always have such mood-swings?"

Ginny shook her head. "It seems to be exclusive to family members. Godric forbid he treat Angelina like that, she would have kicked his arse. Suppose this makes you special, though, Hermione. Congratulations, you're officially a Weasley."

The brunette made weak, sarcastic arm-waving in mock celebration. "Hooray for me."

This made her friends give half-hearted smiles.

"You never did tell us what he said when he lashed out," continued Ginny. "Was it…was it awful?"

Hermione shrugged once again, her face looking troubled, but she simply said, "Nothing I'll take to heart. George is grieving, I understand."

Ginny looked relieved, while Harry felt concerned.

"You'd tell me if you weren't okay, right?"

"Harry…" Hermione began. "Of course."

Harry nodded, somewhat pleased, and then stopped walking. "We're here."

They had arrived at the gate.

"All right," said Hermione, granting him a good bye hug. "You take care of yourself while on your missions and training and whatnot. Okay?"

Harry smiled. "Yes, ma'am."

After letting her go, he turned to his girlfriend. "I'll see you soon, yeah? I have a few days off the week after next, we could meet up in Hogsmeade, discuss those tactics you had planned for the team?"

Ginny's smile was wide and radiant. "You know just what to say to a girl." Then she kissed him, while Hermione looked awkwardly to the side.

When they had yet to part their lips, Hermione cleared her throat. "Right," she said, her voice a bit louder than necessary.

Harry and Ginny couldn't help but chuckle and had to finally release their hold on one another.

"See you soon," said Ginny, giving him one last peck on the mouth.

"Yeah," said Harry, grinning.

He stayed for a while, watching their figures approach the castle and when he was sure they'd made it safely to the entrance, he turned and Apparated on the spot.

He arrived at the front steps of Twelve Grimmauld Place. When he opened the door he was met by a very eager house-elf.

"Master Harry, you're back!"

"Hi, Kreacher," said Harry and handed the elf his cloak and overnight bag. "Dinner smells lovely."

"Your favourite, Master Harry. After having been gone so long, I thought it a good welcome home."

 _Home,_ Harry thought and couldn't help but feel that the word left a sour taste in his mouth. Grimmauld Place was many things, but he'd never let himself consider it home. He was relieved that these past months of training had only allowed him to occupy this house for as long as took for him to eat, sleep and shower.

"Thanks, Kreacher."

The elf bowed in response and told Harry to wash his hands before dinner which would be done in ten minutes.

While he washed, Harry reflected on the weekend he had had.

It had been wonderful to see Hermione again. He'd feared her and Ron breaking up for as long he could remember and was pleasantly surprised at the outcome. Though being upset, Ron hadn't held it against Harry when he told him that he'd keep being friends with her. And Hermione didn't seem to feel any spite or hurt towards Ron, like she'd done when he had got together with Lavender. She must truly be over him.

There was something, though, that concerned The-Boy-Who-Lived about his best friend. From what he'd observed this weekend he'd come to the conclusion that Hermione seemed different. Lighter somehow.

He wouldn't say happier…more like calmer. Less stressed. Less anxious.

The war had hurt all of them but once it was over Harry had seen the toll it had taken on her to stay by his side for so long. Far longer than anyone, even Ron. Harry was forever grateful for those long weeks she'd spent with him in that tent, but he also felt extremely guilty for everything that had happened.

He knew about her nightmares.

He'd been there the first time they had begun haunting her. With her parents away and not yet having time to retrieve them, Hermione had stayed with Harry at Grimmauld Place for a while. And despite the family's many protests, the two of them wanted to allow the Weasley's to grieve Fred and reconcile with Percy in peace. Thus, one night, Harry had awoken to a horrible scream, not unlike the one he'd heard at Malfoy Manor.

He'd rushed to her room to find Hermione scream and thrash in her sleep. When Harry managed to wake her she had looked at him with dread in her eyes.

" _Harry…I was back…I was there…"_

" _It's all right, Hermione, you're not there anymore."_

When she looked at him again he could see that she felt ashamed, and after a few more times he stopped hearing her cries. But he could always tell by the shadows under her eyes that she hadn't slept well. This silent struggling unnerved him more than her screaming had, for there was nothing he could do if she didn't want to be helped. Then, in a last effort to do _something_ for her, he suggested retrieving her parents, hoping she'd find some peace in having them back.

" _They'll be angry with me."_

" _Then let them. They'll get over it eventually. You did it for their safety."_

" _What if they're happier now without me? What if their lives are better?"_

" _That's ridiculous, they don't have their daughter. I'm sure they'd rather want to be with you. And I know I'd want to be with my parents if I still had the chance."_

He knew it had been a low blow but Harry had to make his friend better somehow. He could be a Slytherin if the situation called for it and this situation had certainly called for it.

To his relief, Hermione had shown signs of improvement when her parents arrived back home. Yet it was still not the same as the way she was behaving now.

This weekend at the cottage Harry would glance over and catch his friend smile to herself sometimes, looking like she had unveiled a secret; like she was excited over being able to see the different pieces of a mystery reveal themselves. Almost like the time with Rita Skeeter. Although with less smugness involved.

Something was up.

"Master Harry, dinner is ready," called Kreacher.

"I'll be right there," said Harry.

As he made his way down to the kitchen, Harry worked on the different theories he had. Sure, Hermione had obviously been relieved to end things with Ron. But there was more to this. Perhaps…

 _No_ , Harry thought. _Hermione wouldn't run off with another guy just like that. Besides, she'd tell me. Or at least Ginny would be able to pry it out of her._

He kept thinking.

It wasn't until today with George that her somewhat good mood had wavered. Harry figured that either the twin had said something so awful it took precedence over whatever good thing Hermione had going for her, or the twin had something to do with that good thing and his lashing out had destroyed that.

 _Although, I don't think George and Hermione are close enough for him to be related to her good thing…_

Either way, both scenarios made Harry want to hex the ginger.

Harry missed the twins. He missed Fred. He missed _George_ , who to be honest, wasn't himself nowadays. They had been there for Harry, more than he'd ever taken time to consider. When the rest of the school whispered behind his back, the twins would always be there with support. When Harry needed a laugh, they'd been more than happy to deliver. This brotherly, friendly connection had been good enough reason to hand them the money for their shop, and it was more than good enough reason to want to help George. But the problem was that no one knew how.

 _If only Fred were here…_

"Master Harry!"

Harry snapped to, something black obscuring his vision, and realized he'd been about to walk into the cauldron Kreacher was hovering mid-air.

* * *

~o0o~

* * *

"Tell me!"

"There's nothing to tell, Ginny."

The redhead folded her arms and eyed the object hovering above Hermione's bed. "Right, so you're telling me that this Pensieve is for what? Home décor?"

Hermione sighed and put the basin back into her beaded bag.

"How did you even get one anyway? Aren't these supposed to be rare or something?"

She gave her friend a smirk. "I helped defeat the Dark Lord, I ask and people provide…most of the time."

Ginny raised a brow, smiling. "Aren't we being arrogant?"

Hermione shrugged.

Ginny stopped smiling. "Honestly, though. I find you sitting here, skipping dinner, with a Pensieve in front of you…What's going on? What are you looking at?"

Hermione crossed her legs on the bed. "I wasn't looking at anything-"

 _Yet_.

"-I was just taking out some of my things, that's all."

Ginny's narrowed her brown eyes. "You're hiding something."

"No, I'm not."

"Yes, you are. You don't think I know what sneaking around looks like?"

Hermione stopped fidgeting with her nails and looked up. "Are you accusing me of sneaking around? I'm a Prefect-"

"Oh, please, don't play the Prefect card on me! We are both well aware of the things you, my brother and Harry were up to after curfew. And even Percy snuck about, trying to meet his girlfriend, so don't even try."

It was quiet.

Ginny was waiting for answers while Hermione knew she wouldn't receive any.

"What do you want me to say, Ginny?" she asked finally. "What does it matter what I'm looking at? It's personal."

"So personal you can't even share it with your best friend?" Her brown eyes grew big and glassy. She sniffed. "I'm hurt."

Hermione scoffed, recognizing the act. "No, you're not. You just want to find out what I'm looking at."

"Aha! So you _are_ looking at something!"

 _Oh, bloody ruddy Hippogriffs..._

"Fine!" Hermione exclaimed. "I was going to watch a memory, okay? Now, it takes concentration, will you please leave?"

"Whose memory is it?"

Hermione growled.

It did nothing to scare the other witch, who simply cocked her head to the side. "You can't blame me for being curious, 'Mione."

"No, but I can make your hair green."

"All the better to match my boyfriend's eyes. Try again, Granger."

"Forget it, I won't watch it now, you've ruined it."

Something about the way she said it must have sounded serious for Ginny edged closer, any hint of stubbornness gone. "Sorry, if you truly want me gone, I'll go. It's just that...I figured you'd at least plan on telling me later. Isn't that how this works?"

It was, Hermione realized. Every other time she'd had something on her mind, whether it was theories, plans or Ron, she'd always taken care to assure Ginny that even though she wasn't ready at the time, she would eventually tell her.

Now, though, Hermione wasn't sure she ever wanted _anyone_ to find out about this. _Ever_.

Saying it out loud would make it feel so much more real and she didn't want real right now. She wanted to watch her and Fred talk, spend time together, tease and fight. She wanted to forget that she wasn't back at Hogwarts with him. She wanted to forget that his little brother was angry with her, that his twin actually seemed to despise her, and she wanted to ignore the part that feared that if Fred were here now, he'd not like what he saw.

The Hermione he'd fancied…she was no longer the girl who'd scold the twins for being too loud, too rebellious, too crass. She wasn't Hermione Granger; girl with a stick up her bum.

She was Hermione Granger; a battle worn woman searching for reprieve.

She was damaged, broken, scarred.

"Fine."

Hermione blinked and realized she hadn't said anything in a while, but it was too late.

"Fine, Hermione, don't tell me," said Ginny and left the room, looking betrayed, leaving behind the plate of food she'd brought with her from the Great Hall.

 _Excellent, first George and now Ginny…_

"I'm just making so many friends today, aren't I," said Hermione to the orange cat curled up against her legs. He looked at her and purred, causing her to smile. "What would I do without you, Crookshanks?"

The cat didn't answer, but kept purring his soothing purr.

Hermione re-opened her beaded bag and looked for the vials, deciding that despite how much she might want to, she wouldn't follow her friend. She'd let Ginny stay mad a while, as long as it caused her to not dig deeper.

"It's for her own sake," said Hermione. "Imagine what she'd do if she found out? She'd want to see the memories for herself, wouldn't she?" Hermione scratched behind the cat's ear.

 _It would make it harder for her to move on, I know it did for me. And some of them are private…something between me and Fred…and George sometimes, I suppose._

Hermione almost laughed, but quickly sobered before she had a chance to.

George's words had hurt. A lot. But there was nothing she could do.

Luckily, she'd cried herself out at the Leaky Cauldron and found it to even have been a bit refreshing. All the built up thoughts got an outlet and it made it easier to deal.

She always did it this way, though. She let something build until she couldn't possibly stop it any longer and then one ill-intentioned word was enough to push her over the edge.

It was better to feel, she knew this. It was healthier. Loads better than to bury something and then burst into tears when what you normally would believe to be minor affects you more than it should.

But Merlin, was that difficult.

Especially when you didn't _want_ to feel. Especially, when everything about her whole situation was so complicated.

Because Hermione suspected now.

As soon as she'd sunk to the floor in that bathroom, she knew something was strange about her huge reaction and her suspicions scared her.

She might have feelings for Fred.

Feelings.

For Fred Weasley.

Who was gone.

It was so bizarre, and strange, and absolutely horrible.

But how could she not?

For the life of her, she couldn't see how this would have had a different outcome.

His memories had filled in the blanks of a crossword she'd never known existed in the first place. They just made everything fit, and everything made so much more sense.

There had always been some sort of feeling there before. She'd been left in awe, more times than she'd care to admit, of his abilities, magic, and bravery. And occasionally even his humour.

But this…something about seeing it from his perspective had changed hers, and she had no idea what to do with that…

All there was left was probably to just keep looking at his memories and hope and pray she'd find some kind of closure at the end of it. Before things got even messier.

She suspected what she'd find in the fifth vial…the twins' last year in Hogwarts, a year in which she and Fred had spent a surprising amount of time together, come to think of it.

What had made him change his approach?

Clearly, he shouldn't have been around her so much if his promise to stay away for Ron's sake rang true, so what had happened?

Hermione managed a tiny smile.

 _See, there's still something to look forward to…_

She'd cried herself dry this afternoon, she'd thought, but as the burning began in her eyes, Hermione blinked and took a deep breath.

"Enough of this," she said, scolding herself.

The Pensieve was brought back out, and the curtains around the bed closed.

With a flick of her wrist, Hermione emptied the fifth glass holder and dived.

* * *

~o0o~

* * *

 **A/N: Hello, lovely readers!**

 **I can't thank you enough for all your reviews, follows and favourites.**

 **I mean, over 200 followers? I'm just….*sobs*…..so overwhelmed. Thank you!**

 **And your reviews are always so kind and amazing, thank you for your support.**

 **School is going to keep me occupied for a while now, so maybe the next chapter won't be up for another two/three weeks…Just know that I'm always working on it when I have time and I won't abandon this story, I love it and all of you too much.**

 **Hope you enjoyed this chapter!**  
 **Until next time!**  
 **/Primrue**

 _P.S. I have a tumblr if you guys have any questions or just want to talk (I would love to hear more from you guys!), I'm on there a lot. Check my profile for the adress._


	15. Grimmauld Place

Grimmauld Place

* * *

~o0o~

* * *

The room itself was dark and gloomy, courtesy of the tapestries donning the walls and the gothic-inspired beds, chairs and desk. It severely lacked the feeling of being an inhabited place; having everything about it scream uncomfortable, old and stiff. Nevertheless, there was a bright spot in the centre where two humans sat. Two boys, who, apparently, had made it their quest to fill the area to the brim with parchment, quills and potions ingredients, and several other things that Hermione had a hard time identifying.

 _Fred and George's room…_

The twins in question were opposite each other, cross-legged on the floor, leaning on their respective beds. Both of them were furiously scratching something down and the sound of quill-tips on parchment dominated across the four walls.

After a few moments of the occasional 'hm' and 'ah', they started to speak.

"I've been thinking," said Fred, looking up from his writing.

"That never bodes well," said George, his voice absent; continuing despite the interruption.

Fred rolled his eyes.

Silence returned for a few seconds, until Fred broke it with a loud sigh, rolling his eyes once more.

Scratch, scratch, scratch…

Nothing.

He tried again.

When his brother still didn't react, Fred rolled up a piece of parchment and slapped him on the arm. "Gred, I'm rolling my eyes!"

"No, yeah! Sorry, go on," said George. "I'm listening."

Fred pouted at him as his attention seemed far from undivided, but still decided to speak.

"With all the money we got from Harry," he said. "and our rather successful attempts at developing products, you don't think it might be time to call it quits?"

At this, George finally looked up from his writing, raising an eyebrow in the process. "Meaning?"

"Let's not go back to school," Fred explained. "We already know there are plenty of good places to set up shop in Diagon Alley. Why waste our time doing NEWTs that we won't even need?"

George took a moment to think.

"You might be right," he said. "there's no real point in going back. We don't need NEWTs to do this…and it might be a shame to waste time studying instead of working…"

"Right-"

"There's one flaw though…" George interrupted before his brother got ahead of himself. "Mum's going to kill us."

Fred winced at the thought. "We should find a place for real, then. At least that way we won't be homeless by the time she kicks us out."

George laughed, but after it ended his expression quickly turned somber.

"But seriously, though," he continued. "tempting as it might be, I think we're needed more at school than at Diagon Alley."

Fred nodded. "So, you've noticed it too?"

"That Ginny's been nervous ever since we heard You-Know-Who's back? Yeah."

"That bloody diary did a number on her," Fred sighed. "I know I'm being selfish. It's just with us not being let in the Order and everything…I want to do more! Not just sit comfy in the common room while the Death Eaters roam around!"

George frowned. "I want that as well, you know that. Can't believe they won't even let us in on the meetings..." he trailed off, looking the tiniest bit bitter, then shook his head, " _However_ , with everything that's going on perhaps we shouldn't be thinking about what the 'adults' are doing, but rather what we should do about the little ones. Ginny's not the only one who's going to have a hard time. You've read what the Prophet's been saying about Harry."

Fred bore a look of defeat. "Fine, yeah, I know. Although, I do have to say, that if it seems like we're much more needed elsewhere-"

"-we just up and leave middle of the term?"

"Correct."

"…can't argue with that, sure."

They shook hands.

While Fred began scribbling again, his twin paused. "You know," he said, "I never pegged you as being one this afraid of NEWTs, though, Freddie."

"Who said I was afraid?"

"Well, you seem awfully adamant about not going back or staying at Hogwarts. Certain there's not something keeping you _away_ from school, rather than pulling you _towards_ the Order?"

George's tone was teasing and playful, but when Fred didn't answer, the redhead's eyes widened in realization. "Oh, you cannot be serious-"

"No, Sirius is downstairs-"

"-are you afraid of going back and have to deal with Hermione, is that really it?" George looked at Fred as if pleading him to say that that wasn't the case.

Fred grimaced and looked up. "Maybe, a small part-"

"-Oh, for f-"

"-might be slightly worried-"

"-ounders' sake, Fred. C'mon-"

"It's not that I'm scared of her!" Fred argued. "It's more like…you know… I don't want to spend my last year watching her and my brother together, moving _ever_ so slowly, whilst in the back of my mind thinking that I'm the better choice! I mean, what sort of brother does that?"

"A human one," said George sympathetically. After patting Fred's shoulder lightly, he put on a playful smirk. "Besides, not everyone can be as selfless as me."

"Pardon?"

"Well, you know I've fancied Angie for a while," said George, trying to ignore Fred's theatrical gasp ('He finally admits it!'), "and I spent an incredible amount of time to make sure there wasn't anything still going on between the two of you-"

"You still on about that?" said Fred, frowning. "I told you, Ange is a dear friend. And while, yes, she's incredibly fit- hey!" He rubbed his shin which George had just aimed a kick at. "Bloody…Anyway. Though she's _attractive_ , it took nothing more than one small peck on the mouth before we realized we could never be more. And don't look so smug and act like you were so saint-like," Fred added when George let satisfaction coat his face. "You were the one who tried to have me 'move on' from Angelina and pushed this whole Hermione business on me in the first place, remember? 'You admitted to being interested in the girl, Fred', 'You've got it bad', 'I don't want it to take you too long to admit your feelings is all'. "Fred scoffed. "You're the one who's got it bad, mate."

George opened his mouth to respond when suddenly, there was a huge commotion downstairs.

"Who d'you reckon that is?" asked George.

"Dunno, but they got bloody Walburga going at it again…"

The twins emerged from their room, Hermione right behind them, and Walburga Black's wails got louder. Not until they reach the first landing can they distinguish anything but the old witch portrait clearly.

"DISGRACE, FILTH, AND NOW A MUDBLOOD IN OUR PROUD HOUSE-"

"Will someone shut her up?" shouted Sirius.

"I'll take care of it, cousin!" said Tonks and a second later they heard someone knock over at least five different things.

"Oh, for Merlin's sake..."

"-BLOOD TRAITORS WHO ARE JUST AS BAD! GET OUT! LEAVE-"

"I'll just do it myself! Dora, you're in the way-"

"Sorry, I'll get up-"

"ALL OF YOU! FILTH-"

"C'mon-"

"My cloak got stuck-"

"-MUDBLOODS AND DIRT, THE LOT OF THEM, OUT! OUT WITH YOU! OUT-"

Then the relief of silence.

"Thank you, Ron."

"No worries, happy to help."

There were a few scuffles and additional murmured thanks heard, followed by the sound of footsteps.

Then Ron and memory Hermione arrived upstairs.

"Sorry about that, Sirius' mum is a nasty piece of work," said Ron.

Hermione did appear a bit bothered but shook her head. "It's fine, it's not like I haven't heard that word before."

"Well, still isn't right," said Ron.

"You are gallant, brother," said George as the twins stepped forward from their place by the railing.

"Knight in shining armor, he is," said Fred. "Say, is that why you're having Hermione carry her trunk?"

Ron's ears turned red. "I'm helping," he said, pointing to where he held the other end of the trunk.

"Impressive," said George.

Hermione sighed. "If you're quite finished," she said, pulling the trunk out of Ron's grip to begin heaving it by herself. Unfortunately, this only resulted in having it thump heavily to the floor, forcing her weak arms to drag it along the carpet. Slowly.

The boys all laughed.

"C'mere, Granger," said Fred, his wand out, and offered to take it.

"Fine," said Hermione, her face growing pink from embarrassment. "Thank you."

"Where are you staying?"

"Ginny's room."

Fred grinned. "Well then, that's just down the hallway." He levitated the trunk along the way, letting it bump into Ron's legs occasionally while George sniggered.

A new scene appeared.

Hermione and Ginny were sitting similar to the way the twins had in the previous memory, talking in their room.

"So how's it going between the two of you?" asked Hermione while Ginny stroked the fur on Crookshanks back.

"Very well. Michael's been sending me letters-"

Without warning, two loud cracks sounded as Fred and George interrupts by Apparating in.

"Who's Michael?" they chorus.

Crookshanks hissed and mini Hermione had given a huge yelp in surprise, followed by a very impressive scowl, but the youngest Weasley outdid them both, her furious expression enough to scare even the bravest of Gryffindor's.

"Were you eavesdropping with those 'Extendable Ears' of yours?" she asked.

"Now, Ginny, I'm sure we asked you first," said Fred, though a tad uneasy. "Who's Michael?"

"That's none of your business."

"I think it's our business who our sister dates," said George.

"Yeah, we might want to know who the chap is so we can have a 'friendly' talk with him," said Fred.

"You'll do no such thing!"

"You'll find, sis, that we are very resourceful. We'll find out who this Michael is and-"

There was a yell as Ginny interrupted with a shouted incantation. For a while nothing happened and as soon he was about to start talking again, George stopped and paused. Fred and Hermione exchanged a look of confusion, but Ginny smiled triumphantly. The reason grew apparent when, a second later, something black crawled out of George's nose and took flight. The bat was quickly followed by several more until there were at least ten of them circling the boy.

"Get 'em off me!" shouted George.

Hermione was trying her best to look sympathetic but failed utterly, laughs escaping her, while Fred was howling and asking for more bats to appear.

"Oh, don't think I've forgotten about you, brother dear," said Ginny and Fred's amused expression quickly turned into one of horror. Ginny cast another Bat-Bogey hex and stood watching her two brother's fret over the winged creatures. "That's what you get for meddling!"

Hermione from the vial was full on laughing now, not even trying to hide her glee as Fred and George pranced around in panic.

The room changed and a new memory took the last one's place.

Ron and Hermione were standing outside the kitchen door, speaking in hushed voices, when Fred and George appeared once again with two loud cracks.

"Hello, lads," said George.

"Would you _please_ refrain from popping up like that!" said Hermione in a shrill voice, clutching her chest. "Every single time it's like I'm about to have a heart attack!"

The twins ignored her.

"Why is it," began Fred, observing the marks on Hermione's hand, "that I always seem to find your hands injured one way or the other?"

"Blimey," said George who appeared to just have noticed. "And you too, little brother? What beast's responsible for this?"

"Hedwig," Hermione explained. "Apparently, Harry feels we haven't provided him with enough information."

"You should get Mum to look at it, 'Mione," said Ron.

She shook her head. "No, that's all right. But if you need it-"

It was Ron's turn to shake his head. "No…it's fine," he said, gloominess surrounding him, as he simultaneously looked at his hand.

Fred frowned. "You know, you two shouldn't have to punish yourself. It's not your fault you can't tell him anything."

Hermione looked surprised he'd seen through her. "Er…"

"C'mon, 'Mione," said Ron. "Let's eat."

There was a lot of meaning buried in those simple words. The twins didn't get it. They weren't best friends with Harry. They didn't have to feel the overwhelming guilt of not being able to tell their friend what was going on. Ron's tone left little to the imagination, the burden shared between him and herself obvious to anyone who'd heard.

And so Hermione and Ron left the twins to look helplessly among themselves.

"Blimey, I really suppose you're right, George. We need to look after them," said Fred. " _All_ of them."

The scene switched.

It's still in the kitchen, but it's much later in time. The most giving detail about being that Harry was sitting there, and when Fred and George went about hovering the cauldron full of stew, Hermione quickly pinned this down to being on the night Harry first arrived at Grimmauld Place.

"FOR HEAVEN'S SAKE!" screamed Mrs. Weasley. "THERE WAS NO NEED- I'VE HAD ENOUGH OF THIS-JUST BECAUSE YOU'RE ALLOWED TO USE MAGIC NOW, YOU DON'T HAVE TO WHIP YOUR WANDS OUT FOR EVERY TINY LITTLE THING!"

"We were just trying to save a bit of time!" said Fred, hurrying forward to wrench the bread knife out of the table, which had fallen onto there, narrowly missing Sirius hand. This was after the twins had dropped food and all the things that came with it; the Butterbeer, the breadboard, the cauldron and of course the knife. "Sorry, Sirius, mate-didn't mean to-"

But Harry and Sirius were both laughing, their merry faces causing warmth to spread through her chest, and listening to the sound once more she realized how much she missed it. Not just their laughs but having Fred and George be able to conjure it. Harry and Sirius had not been the happiest of people at this particular moment so it could be deemed a small feat. But they'd managed somehow…

Standing closer to them this time around, she heard Fred whisper to George; "Did she see?"

George glanced to where younger Hermione sat next to Ginny. The disapproving frown was evidence enough.

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure she did."

Fred groaned.

Real Hermione smiled.

There was a new memory.

Mrs. Weasley had just left the drawing-room and Harry, Ron, Hermione, Fred, George and Ginny stood gathered by the window.

"Mundungus!" said Hermione. "What's he brought all those cauldrons for?"

"Probably looking for a safe space to keep them," said Harry. "Isn't that what he was doing the night he was supposed to be tailing me? Picking up dodgy cauldrons?"

"Yeah, you're right!" said Fred. The group eased away from the window as Mundungus had disappeared from view and entered the house. "Blimey, mum won't like that."

The twins moved to the door to eavesdrop. The rest of them stood nearby waiting for them to report.

"Mundungus is talking to Sirius and Kingsley," Fred muttered, frowning with concentration. "Can't hear properly…d'you reckon we can risk the Extendable Ears?"

"Might be worth it," said George. "I could sneak up and get a pair-"

But that's when their mother interrupted, yelling like mad.

"WE ARE NOT RUNNING A HIDEOUT FOR STOLEN GOODS!"

There were small sniggers from the twins.

"I love hearing mum shouting at someone else," said Fred, a satisfied smile on his face as he opened the door an inch or so to allow Mrs. Weasley's voice to penetrate the room better. "It makes such a nice change."

Though his tone was playful, Hermione couldn't help but provide a sad sympathetic look on his behalf, which the twin noticed, resulting in his smile growing wider as he turned to listen in on the scolding going on downstairs.

"-COMPLETELY IRRESPONSIBLE, AS IF WE HAVEN'T GOT ENOUGH TO WORRY ABOUT WITHOUT YOU DRAGGING STOLEN CAULDRONS INTO THE HOUSE-"

George shook his head and began explaining the mistake the other wizard made in letting his mother go on screaming and when he moved to shut the door so as to shut out the now also screaming Mrs. Black, Kreacher edged into the room.

Looking more ragged than his present self, he took no notice of the others and shuffled to the far end of the room, muttering about blood-traitors, werewolves and the like. But before that, he'd under his breath said the word 'Mudblood', unknowingly causing all other occupants in the room to stiffen.

Hermione flinched at the word, but tried to compose herself, which Ginny, Fred and George noticed. Harry was busy figuring out who this offensive being was and Ron was positively fuming already at the obscenities flying out of Kreacher's mouth. For every new thing he said, the rest of group's dislike grew more and more apparent. He seemed determined to offend everything and everyone.

"Hello, Kreacher," said Fred very loudly, closing the door with a snap.

The house-elf made an attempt at surprise. "Kreacher did not see young master," he said, turning around and bowing to Fred. Still facing the carpet, he added, perfectly audibly, "Nasty little brat of a blood traitor it is."

"Sorry?" said George. "Didn't catch that last bit."

"Kreacher said nothing," said the house-elf, bowing to George now, and muttering just as he had with Fred, "and there's its twin, unnatural little beasts they are."

Then, he glanced around the room, muttering once more in a way that conveyed his conviction that they truly couldn't hear him, "…and there's the Mudblood, standing there bold as brass, oh , if my mistress knew, oh, how she'd cry, and there's a new boy, Kreacher doesn't know his name. What's he doing here? Kreacher doesn't know…"

When it seemed the Weasley's prepared to pummel the little elf, Hermione stepped forward. "This is Harry, Kreacher. Harry Potter."

Kreacher's pale eyes widened and he muttered faster and more furiously than ever.

"The Mudblood is talking to Kreacher as though she is my friend, if Kreacher's mistress saw him in such company, oh, what would she say-"

"Don't call her a Mudblood!" said Ron and Ginny together, very angrily.

"It doesn't matter," Hermione whispered, "he's not in his right mind, he doesn't know what he's-"

"Don't kid yourself, Hermione, he knows exactly what he's saying," said Fred, eyeing Kreacher with great dislike.

And with that it ended and the next scene took shape and Real Hermione followed as Fred, George and Ginny entered the kitchen. Around the table sat Sirius, Remus, Mrs. Weasley, Tonks and younger Hermione.

"There you are, you sneak," said Ginny when she sat down next to her roommate. "Why didn't you wake me up? Did you see Harry off?"

"Sorry, I wanted to let you sleep. And no, I got here just after Harry left," said Hermione. She was nervously tapping her mug of tea, sending an annoying stream of 'clinks' around the room. "He'll be fine, though…He'll be fine."

Meanwhile, Fred and George sat themselves next to Sirius.

"'Course he will, Granger," said George. "He's Harry Potter."

"Yeah, nothing can take that boy down. You of all people should know that, you've been surviving alongside him half the time he's been in trouble," said Fred.

The tapping stopped as Hermione actually quirked a small smile at that. "Yes," she said, "but this isn't some troll in the dungeons. This is Wizarding Law…with a possibly corrupt government."

"All governments are corrupt," said Sirius. "One way or another."

"Aren't you just a ray of sunshine," said Tonks, leaning heavily on her arm against the table.

Remus chuckled.

"Just trying to say that maybe it won't go too differently with the Minister of Magic that we have," said Sirius, shooting Remus a dark look for laughing on his behalf. "And even if it goes badly...well, that wouldn't be the end of the world, would it?"

The others stayed silent, but memory Hermione was narrowing her eyes at Sirius in suspicion.

 _I always did suspect a part of him wanted Harry to be expelled…_

"B-blimey," said Tonks, yawning. "I'm sorry, everyone, I'll have to go home. I can barely sit up straight, I'm spent." She pulled out her chair and rose on wobbly legs.

"I'll see you to the door," said Remus, getting up from his own seat.

The metamorphmagus smirked. "My, what a gentleman you are, Mister Lupin."

He gave her a polite smile. "Don't grant me too much credit; I'm only doing it because I have to get going as well."

"If that's your excuse," said Tonks and winked at the man before grinning back at the other witches in the room, who all giggled. "Bye, everyone!"

Remus sighed good-naturedly and turned to Mrs. Weasley. "Thank you for breakfast, Molly. I expect I'll be back in the evening. Goodbye, all of you."

"Bye," the rest of them chorused as Remus followed Tonks out.

"Now," said Mrs. Weasley, gesturing to a bunch of pots, pans and plates. "There's toast, porridge, muffins, kippers, bacon and eggs. I made all sorts for Harry but he barely ate, poor thing."

"So what you're saying is we're having Harry's leftovers for breakfast?" said Fred. "Brilliant."

Hermione shot him a glare, before turning to his mother. "That all sounds lovely, Mrs. Weasley."

"Yes, well, it's nothing much. Just make sure to eat up."

"Will do!" said George, helping himself to eggs and bacon. "Have to take advantage now that Ron is still sleeping."

"Don't have to tell me," said Ginny, grabbing a stack of toast.

"There's plenty of food for everyone," said Mrs. Weasley. "No need to act as if I'm having you starve."

"Oh, it's not you, mother dear," said Fred, fluttering his eyelashes innocently at her. "It's our pig of a brother."

"Oy!"

Ron entered the kitchen, rubbing his eyes groggily.

"And there he is," said George. "Graceful as ever."

"Hurry, Sirius, pass me the marmalade before it's too late," said Fred.

Ginny, George and Sirius laughed, while memory Hermione rolled her eyes, fighting a grin.

There was a new memory.

They were down in the basement, dinner table overflowing with different dishes of food, and above it hung a scarlet banner reading:

CONGRATULATIONS

RON AND HERMIONE

NEW PREFECTS

As they arrived, Mrs. Weasley told Harry, Ron, Hermione, Fred, George and Ginny that they'd have a little party. "Your father and Bill are on their way, Ron. I've sent them both owls and they're thrilled," she added, beaming.

Fred rolled his eyes.

Sirius, Remus, Tonks and Kingsley were already there, shortly accompanied by Mad-Eye Moody. And not too long after that, Mr. Weasley, Bill and Mundungus arrived.

The room grew louder as the people mingled, until Mr. Weasley called for a toast.

"To Ron and Hermione, the new Gryffindor prefects!"

Ron and Hermione beamed as everyone, even Fred and George, drank to them and applauded.

"I was never a prefect myself," said Tonks brightly as everyone moved to grab food at the table. "My Head of House said I lacked certain necessary qualities."

"Like what?" asked Ginny.

"Like the ability to behave myself," said Tonks.

Ginny laughed, while other people nearby chuckled. Hermione hadn't known whether or not to smile as well, so she'd simply taken an extra large gulp of butterbeer, only to choke on it.

Fred cast an amused look at the scene of Ginny thumping Hermione on the back as he helped himself to some potatoes.

"What about you, Sirius?" his sister asked.

Sirius, who stood next to his godson, let out his usual bark-like laugh.

"No one would have made me a prefect, I spent too much time in detention with James. Lupin was the good boy, he got the badge. "

Tonks eyed the werewolf in question with interest, one that Hermione now could too well understand and interpret. They had ended up getting married after all.

Fred wasn't looking at the young Auror, though. He was busy frowning at the excitement lighting up in Hermione's eyes.

"I think Dumbledore might have hoped I would be able to exercise some control over my best friends," said Remus. "I need scarcely say that I failed dismally."

Hermione had always felt a connection to her old Defense against the Dark Arts professor. He encouraged learning and he too had been the voice of reason amongst his group of friends, a task they'd later agreed was an exhausting one at times. But now that she spotted Fred looking between the two of them talking, she was afraid that her fondness for her professor was being misinterpreted by him.

"Oy, let's go talk to Mundungus about the Tentacula seeds." George whispered, before catching his brother's expression. "What's wrong with you?"

Fred shook his head. "Just sick of all these bloody prefects, is all."

George looked perplexed. When he looked where his brother had previously been staring that look only intensified. "Lupin? Really? He's old enough to be her father."

"I know that!" Fred hissed, his ears turning pink. "Merlin, I didn't mean it like that. I meant that obviously they hold an appeal with her."

"You're not going to go for it with her, anyway, so what's the problem?" whispered George. He narrowed his eyes in a sudden surge of impatience. "While me and Angelina have both told you it's ridiculous and that we doubt it would be the end of the world if you went for her, you're still bloody stubborn. So, fine, you made your choice, mate. But if you're not going to ask her out, then stop your whining."

Fred grumbled, not able to summon any reasonable comment other than, "You can talk the day you brave up and ask Angelina to Hogsmeade."

"I'm actually planning on it," said George, causing his brother to stare and gape. "No, really, I am. Not right away of course, but sometime this year."

It was as if a switch had been flipped and Fred broke out in a huge grin.

"Well, Merlin's pants, that's great, Georgie," he said, earnestly. "Can't tell you how long the rest of us have waited for the two of you to get together."

George scratched his head, a bit flustered at his twin's reaction. "Well, no telling if she'll even say yes…"

"Oh, she'll say yes, trust me," said Fred. He looked so much more cheerful than he had a moment ago. "Let's go see Dung now, before mum spots us," he suggested.

"No worries," said George, developing a grin too, as he glanced over Fred's shoulder. "She's fussing over Bill's hair at the moment."

"Oh, great, then we'll have all night."

* * *

~o0o~

* * *

 **A/N: HAPPY BIRTHDAY FRED AND GEORGE!**

 **AND OH MY GOD THIS STORY GOT OVER 100 REVIEWS!**

 **Shout out to the wonderful Misha Young for being reviewer number 100. (She's a great writer too, check out her Fremione fic "The Bookworm And The Prankster". It's amazing!)**

 **Thank you to all of you who reviewed, favorited and followed last time. It warms my heart to know so many people enjoy this story.**

 **Lots of hugs to everyone!  
Until next time!  
/Primrue**


	16. Fifth Year (Part one)

Fifth Year (Part one)

* * *

~o0o~

* * *

The new surroundings took shape, and Hermione gasped when a non-corporeal Angelina strode determinedly through her and up to the twins by the Entrance Hall.

"Hi, boys," said Angelina.

"Hello," Fred and George said in unison.

"So," the girl continued, flicking her long, braided hair over her shoulder (a motion George's eyes followed with interest), "as you know I was made Quidditch Captain—"

"Yes, we got the letter," said Fred and smirked. "And if we hadn't then I think the announcement you made us all listen to yesterday was quite telling."

Angelina ignored him.

"As I said, I was made Captain and since Oliver's left we need to have tryouts for a new Keeper. I would like you to be on the pitch on Friday, five o'clock, yeah?"

"Sure thing, Ange," said George.

The girl nodded. "Good. See you in Herbology later, then." And with that, she departed.

"Wonder who the new blood'll be," said Fred, thinking aloud.

"Dunno, there's no one that really comes to mind, is there?"

The two of them continued their way to the Great Hall, and once in, stepped up to young Hermione and the others. They were just in time to hear their youngest brother complain about the schedule Proffessor McGonagall had handed to him.

"Look at today!" groaned Ron. "History of Magic, double Potions, Divination and double Defense Against the Dark Arts. . .Binns, Snape, Trelawney and that Umbridge woman all in one day! I wish Fred and George'd hurry up and get those 'Skiving Snackboxes' sorted. . ."

The twins exchanged gleeful grins.

"Do mine ears deceive me?" said Fred, squeezing himself down together with George on to the bench next to Harry. "Hogwarts prefects surely don't wish to skive off lessons?"

"Look what we've got today," said Ron grumpily, shoving his timetable under Fred's nose. "That's the worst Monday I've ever seen."

"Fair point, little bro," said Fred, scanning the column. "You can have a bit of 'Nosebleed Nougat' cheap if you like."

"Why's it cheap?" asked Ron suspiciously.

"Because you'll keep bleeding till you shrivel up, we haven't got an antidote yet," said George.

"Cheers," said Ron moodily, pocketing his timetable. "But I think I'll take the lessons."

"And speaking of your 'Skiving Snackboxes'", said Hermione, having followed the conversation and been waiting for the right moment to cut in. She kept her eyes firm on Fred and George while she spoke. "you can't advertise for testers on the Gryffindor noticeboard."

"Says who?" said George, looking astonished.

"Says me," said Hermione. "And Ron."

"Leave me out of it," said Ron hastily.

Memory Hermione glared at him. Fred and George sniggered.

"You'll be singing a different tune soon enough, Hermione," said Fred, thickly buttering a crumpet. "You're starting your fifth year, you'll be begging us for a 'Snackbox' before long."

"And why would starting fifth year mean I want a 'Skiving Snackbox'?" asked Hermione.

Her raised eyebrow and challenging tone seemed to set something off within him because Fred was grinning uncontrollably. This might potentially have turned awkward if retained for another few seconds, so George answered for his brother, "Fifth year's OWL year." There was a slight shift when he spoke and real Hermione guessed he'd just kicked Fred under the table.

"So?" said her younger self.

"So you've got your exams coming up, haven't you?" said Fred, looking none too bothered by the previous assault. "They'll be keeping your noses so hard to the grindstone that they'll be rubbed raw," he continued with satisfaction, relishing in the way Hermione huffed, enjoying riling her up far too much.

George rolled his eyes but proceeded happily, "Half our year had minor breakdowns coming up to OWLs. Tears and tantrums. . .Patricia Stimpson kept coming over faint. . ."

"Kenneth Towler came out in boils, d'you remember?" said Fred reminiscently.

"That's 'cause you put Bulbadox powder in his pyjamas," said George.

"Oh yeah," said Fred, grinning. "I'd forgotten. . .hard to keep track sometimes, isn't it?"

They continued talking about how awful the fifth year was supposed to be and how, luckily, they'd never had to deal with the unpleasantness that came with worrying about your grades. Hermione pursed her mouth in disapproval (but also slight jealousy), while Ron felt the need to point out that their three OWLs sure were proof of that.

"Yep," said Fred unconcernedly. "But we feel our futures lie outside the world of academic achievement."

"We seriously debated whether we were going to bother coming back for our seventh year," said George brightly. "now that we've got—"

He broke off, and Hermione saw that Harry was sending him what looked like a warning look.

"—now that we've got our OWLs," said George hastily. "I mean, do we really need NEWTs? But we didn't think mum would take us leaving school early, not on top of Percy turning out to be the world's biggest prat."

 _That did not seem like what he was about to say. He stopped when Harry looked at him. . .But why would he. . .?_

"We're not going to waste our last year here though," said Fred, looking affectionately around at the Great Hall. The words carried a double meaning to Hermione now though, and she hurriedly tried to quench the flutter she felt when Fred's eyes finished their perusing and focused on her younger self.

"We're going to use it to do a bit of market research, find out exactly what the average Hogwarts student requires from a joke shop, carefully evaluate the results of our research, then produce products to fit the demands."

 _Lie_. . .

Now it seemed strange how easy they all just believed what the twins were saying to be true. Why would the twins need to do market research to see what fit their demographic? The twins _were_ the demographic. Although, Hermione supposed they wouldn't very well want to tell the younger kids they were there out of concern for them. The Golden Trio would not like to be assigned babysitters.

"But where are you going to get the gold to start a joke shop?" 'Mione asked skeptically, returning his gaze. "You're going to need all the ingredients and materials- and premises too, I suppose. . ."

There was a clang, and Harry bent down under the table to retrieve his dropped fork. And that's when it finally dawned on her.

 _Of course! Harry. . .he gave them the money from the tournament. . . that's why they're acting so strange._

Silly it had taken her this long to put those two pieces together and remember.

Meanwhile, Fred leaned forward, winked, and grabbed two stacks of toast. "Ask us no questions and we'll tell you no lies, Hermione."

Hermione's cheeks adopted a tiny shade of pink but she shook it off quickly before Ron noticed what had just transpired or Harry emerged from underneath the table.

Fred grinned. "C'mon, George, if we get there early we might be able to sell a few 'Extendable Ears' before Herbology."

He handed his brother one of the stacks of toast and walked away just as Harry resurfaced.

"Before you start, brother," said Fred as the two of them exited the Hall, "I have figured it out."

"Figured what out?" said George.

"I'm not going to spend this last year at school pining over a girl I don't have a chance with. Instead, I'll just become friends with her." They were now outside, crossing the lawn towards the greenhouses, and Fred silently casted a charm to protect them against the heavy rain.

"You wink at all your friends?" said George.

His twin raised an incredulous eyebrow.

"I'm only joking," said George. "I know you do. Sometimes it actually creeps me out. Harry is such an innocent young boy. . ."

Fred laughed.

"Anyway," Fred continued, "I'm not a mopey person, so I finally figured that if I want to talk to her that's fine, because it's just talking, and it actually makes me less nervous thinking nothing will come of it, you know?"

"Brilliant, Fred with his reigns loose," said George, without enthusiasm. He didn't appear too eager on the idea. Then, a wicked grin surfaced. "Actually, that will most definitely make nothing come off this. She'll run the other way."

"Ha-ha," said Fred.

George smiled. "You do appear calmer and more at peace, though, so maybe this will be good for you. Hell, you might even end up friends with Granger and have all of us surprised."

The hopeful faces of the two boys was the last thing she saw before scenery switched. Hermione took a second to look around and realized she was now standing in a far corner in the common room. She immediately spotted her counterpart sitting in a chair by the fire, next to Harry and Ron, and appeared to have been studying up until recently. Her eyes were squinting onto something behind her.

 _Oh, no…_

Hermione turned and saw where Fred, George and Lee Jordan were now sitting at the center of a knot of innocent-looking first years, all of whom were chewing something that seemed to have come out of a large paper bag that Fred was holding.

 _Oh, Merlin…_

Young Hermione stood up and the sound of the chair scraping was what made real Hermione glance back in her direction. She saw her arguing with Ron who mumbled and sunk into his chair the longer she kept at it, before huffing and resolutely walking over to the twins and Lee on her own. She had squared her shoulders and put on her best disciplinary face before she finally stood in front of her three seniors. Fred and George stood holding clipboards, closely observing the unconscious first-years who, one by one, as though hit over the head with an invisible mallet, were slumping unconscious in their seats.

Most of the people around the common room watching were laughing.

"That's enough!" Hermione said, forcefully, to Fred and George, both of whom looked up in mild surprise.

"Yeah, you're right," said George, nodding, "this dosage looks strong enough, doesn't it?"

Hermione let out an exasperated noise at the way George had entirely missed the point. "I told you this morning, you can't test your rubbish on students!"

"We're paying them!" said Fred indignantly.

She snapped her head around, looking at him with fire in her eyes. "I don't care, it could be dangerous!"

"Rubbish," said Fred, waving a dismissive hand at her accusation, but the way he crossed his arms after showed that his temper was flaring up as well.

"Calm down, Hermione, they're fine!" said Lee reassuringly, glancing between the two of them, as he walked from first-year to first year, inserting purple sweets into their open mouths.

"Yeah, look, they're coming round now," said George, sensing the danger in having both his brother and Hermione getting fired up.

A few of the first-years were indeed stirring and as they tentatively sat up George inquired about their health. "Feel all right?" he said kindly to a small dark-haired girl lying at his feet.

"I - I think so," she said shakily.

"Excellent," said Fred happily, but the next second Hermione had snatched both his clipboard  
and the paper bag of Fainting Fancies from his hands.

"It is NOT excellent!"

"Course it is, they're alive, aren't they?" said Fred angrily.

Despite him being more than a head taller, Hermione managed to hold her own surprisingly well. She had had no intention of letting them get away with this, despite their 'successful' attempt. "You can't do this, what if you made one of them really ill?"

Fred pinched the bridge of his nose, taking a deep breath. "We're not going to make them ill, we've already tested them all on ourselves, this is just to see if everyone reacts the same—"

But Hermione hadn't found this to be good enough of an answer. These were tiny first-years they'd been testing on after all. It was wrong. Both now and then. "If you don't stop doing it, I'm going to—"

"Put us in detention?" challenged Fred.

"Make us write lines?" said George, smirking.

Onlookers all over the room were laughing. Hermione drew herself up to her full height; her eyes narrowed and her bushy hair crackling with electricity.

"No," she said, her voice quivering with anger, "but I will write to your mother."

"You wouldn't," said George, horrified, taking a step back from her.

"Oh, yes, I would," said Hermione grimly. "I can't stop you eating the stupid things yourselves, but you're not to give them to the first-years."

Fred and George looked thunderstruck. It was clear that as far as they were concerned, Hermione's threat was way below the belt. With a last threatening look at them, she thrust Fred's clipboard and the bag of Fancies back into his arms, and stalked back to her chair by the fire.

Hermione knew she'd be scolding Ron for not helping her, letting her play the bad guy all by herself. She'd hated using that threat against them, but in face of humiliation she'd been left with no choice. Besides, what they'd been doing should not have been allowed to go on. She was surprised none of the other, older prefects had said anything. Why was it up to her alone to be setting things right? The twins were well liked and people who opposed them weren't very popular but weren't they supposed to be in the house of lions? Where was that bravery and sense for justice?

Hermione watched as her younger self wrenched her bag open. Harry had been observing curiously nearby, only to act surprised when she pulled out two misshapen woolly objects and placed them carefully on a table by the fireplace.

Meanwhile, the twins were having a heated debate.

"I can't believe she'd do that! Threaten us like that! You do realize if mum were to find out—"

"We can kiss our entire work goodbye? Yeah, I figured that out for myself thanks," said Fred and snorted. He looked angry, but also disappointed and betrayed.

George noticed. "C'mon, you knew who she was going into this. Can't tell me you've been forgetting how she's a model student?"

Fred bristled in silence, glaring at Hermione's tiny figure leaving for the girls' dormitories while avoiding looking at them.

"So much for being friends with her, I suppose," said George, looking defeated on his brother's behalf.

Time sped forwards.

The common room was near empty. Fred and George and Lee were occupying the seats by fire now.

Lee was going on about something he'd done that summer when he stopped. "I'm sorry, I can't stand it any longer, what on earth is that?"

Fred and George looked to where their friend was pointing.

"I saw Hermione pull them out earlier," said Fred. Anger returned to his face and he murmured " _Evanesco"_ at the knitted pile of wool.

Real Hermione gasped.

George had a pleased twitch pull at his lips at the revenge but let out a theatrical sigh. "I'm not paying for your funeral, just so you know." He looked at his brother. "Make you feel better?"

Fred scowled. "No. I'm going to bed."

George and Lee followed.

The memory changed and they were now in the Great Hall.

Fred and George were silent and poking their food around until Angelina seemed to have had enough; dropping her fork onto her plate with a clatter.

"You're behaving like children" she said.

"Hey," said Fred, "we weren't the ones threatening people, potentially ruining their lives!"

Angelina stared her friend down. "You were testing on first years."

George sighed. "Please, not you too."

"Yes, me too. It might have been low to say she'd tell your mother, but maybe if you'd been more careful and at least not done it in the bloody common room, she wouldn't have had to reprimand you. It's her job."

"So, what you're saying is that we should sneak around?" asked Fred, skeptical.

"Don't put words in my mouth, Fred Weasley," said Angelina, chastising him. "All I'm trying to explain is that Hermione is a prefect, and though you two may not know anything about obligations, she has them."

She didn't wait for an answer before turning to where Hermione sat alone at the end of the table. "Hermione, come join us, will you?"

Memory 'Mione looked up from her plate and book. She almost smiled at Angelina, but that was before she spotted Fred and George sitting opposite the other witch.

"C'mon," said Angelina.

Hermione hesitated, but eventually caved and headed for the seat Angelina left open for her.

"Thank you," she said glancing nervously at the twins. Both of them were engaged in conversation, clearly an attempt to avoid talking to her without seeming _too_ rude. Which they failed.

Angelina shot them a dark look. "Anyway," the Chaser continued. "What are you up to? Where are your other two-thirds?"

Hermione tore her eyes away from the twins. "Oh, they're away in the library."

"Without you? How come?"

"They're working on some homework."

"And not you?"

"Well," Hermione frowned. "I'm not as behind as they are and, frankly, I could do without Ron's company for a while."

"What did he do now?" asked Angelina.

"Well. . ."

"Hermi—"

"He made fun of my hats!"

Hermione blushed when she realized the volume of her words. Fred and George had even looked up at her. "I mean," she continued, lowering her voice. "He made fun of my knitting, after I mentioned that the hats I made for the House-elves—"

Angelina raised her brows. "You knitted hats for the elves?"

Hermione smiled. "Yes, and they were all _gone_ this morning! It's like I said, they truly must want freedom-"

She was interrupted by a loud spluttering.

Fred coughed and wiped the pumpkin juice off himself.

"All right there, Freddie?" asked Angelina.

"Ye-Yeah. Just so happy to hear about the elves and the hats. All gone you said, Hermione?"

Hermione beamed at him. "Yes, all gone! Oh, and let me help you with that," she added and cleaned the juice away with a flick of her wand.

"Thank you," said Fred, meeting her eyes. Half a second passed before he broke the contact, looking away, and reminded himself to be angry with her.

"You're. . .welcome," Hermione said, having dropped her smile as the mood seemed to grow heavier.

Fred and George were looking at their plates again and Angelina fidgeted a little under the tension.

There was a small silence before Hermione had enough. "I'm sorry," she said.

The twins jerked their heads up.

"I'm sorry about threatening to tell your mother, it was low of me, and though you were doing something very wrong, and honestly quite irresponsible and horrible, as using first-years as Guinea pigs for your own experiments—"

"You don't apologize too often, do you?" said George.

Young Hermione had to restrain herself from glowering at him and gave a pleased smile when Angelina leaned across the table to smack him on the arm.

"You boys know it was a dumb thing to do, yet she's the one apologizing. You ungrateful sods should be thankful for what you get. Go on, Hermione."

"Well, er. . .yes, I hope you know I won't tell your mother, is all, I suppose. And sorry, again."

Fred and George exchanged contemplative looks while Hermione gulped and had sweat gathering everywhere in anxiety. Then, they both nodded and broke into huge grins as they said in unison: "Apology accepted!"

The witch beamed again and sighed in relief. "Really? That's it?"

"There's no real point in staying mad at someone after they've apologized, is there?" said Fred, looking as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"That's. . .oddly mature of you, Fred," said Hermione.

Fred grinned.

"And don't worry about the first years, Hermione, I'm sure the boys will take their experiments elsewhere. Won't you?" said Angelina, and looked pointedly at the twins.

"Cross my heart," said George.

"Swear it on the reflection on Snape's greasy hair," said Fred.

The latter comment made Hermione scrunch her nose up but seemed satisfied until a thought occurred to her, "When you say 'elsewhere', do you mean not first years or just not the common room—"

"Hey, Hermione," interrupted Angelina. "I forgot to ask you about these new books we got for Defense against the Dark arts. This 'Defensive Magical Theory' thing. You're a book expert; think you have something else I could check into that actually will help me with my NEWTs?"

This snapped Hermione out of whatever she had previously been thinking and the twins shot appreciative looks at their classmate.

"Don't tell me you have the exact same ones despite being in your seventh year?!"

Angelina nodded. "'Fraid we do. Utter rubbish as well."

"Completely agree," said Hermione. "And I'm not sure, I could check. I might have something in my dorm—"

"You have NEWT level literature?" said Fred. Then he shook his head, laughing. "What am I saying, 'course you do."

"As I said," continued Hermione, ignoring him. "I might have something, just give me some time to look."

"Cheers! You're a life-saver, Hermione."

Hermione smiled. "Don't know about that. Honestly, though. Professor Umbridge is just ruining everyone's exams, I'm glad Harry told her off actually…he should have gotten points instead of detention, but don't tell him I told you that, don't want him to think I approved."

Angelina stared. "Back up—he got detention? What day?"

Hermione realized what the detentions would interfere with and started to squirm. "Er. . ."

"Hermione," said Angelina.

The fifth year gulped.

"What day?"

Hermione looked down at her hands. "Every day this week…"

It looked like fumes would steam out of her ears, that's how angry Angelina was.

" _Potter_ ," she said, his name leaving her lips sounding like a curse.

Fred and George tried hard not to laugh at the miserable face Hermione was making as Angelina started shouting her frustrations ('What's the point of trying out for a new Keeper when the whole team isn't even there?!'). They did pale, however, when Angelina turned her attentions to them and assured them a slow death if they were to land themselves in trouble as well.

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~o0o~

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 **A/N: Hello, Lovelies!**

 **Wow, I continue being amazed at the love this story is getting. You guys are absolutely incredible! Thank you so much for reviewing, following and adding this story to your favorites!**

 **Some sad news: Updates will be less frequent for a while. Again, school is to blame. Sorry! *inserts five hundred sad smiley faces***

 **Hope you enjoyed this chapter of Fremione goodness though!  
Until next time!  
/Primrue**


	17. Fifth Year (Part Two)

Fifth Year (Part two)

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~o0o~

* * *

The Great Hall transformed into smoke, obtaining a solid form in shape of the Gryffindor common room two seconds later. Hermione tried, as usual, to quickly adjust and properly take in her new environment. She spun her body around in a circle and watched as the newly formed people gathered in the centre where she stood.

"Butterbeers for everyone!" cheered the twins and Lee, and the mass followed as they went to settle the bottles down on a table for their fellow House mates to grab.

Meanwhile, students were also coming up to Ron, who stood a few steps away, and she heard them congratulating him on becoming Keeper. Eventually, even her younger self found him.

"So happy for you, Ron," said Hermione, smiling at her friend.

He positively shone in response.

When the crowd cleared a bit, Ron greedily grabbed a Butterbeer and poured it into a goblet for himself while Fred rolled his eyes, handing one to Hermione who stood next to his little brother.

"Not another 'Canary Cream', is it?" asked Hermione, eyeing the bottle. "'Baboon Butterbeer' being a new addition to your assortment?"

Fred grinned. "If I remember correctly I warned you about the Creams."

"So you did . . . right before you told Neville you were joking and let him eat one anyway."

"Ah, but like I said, I did warn _you_. It was too late for him, he was already halfway through his. Nothing I could have done."

Hermione looked at him skeptically, but smiled. Then she yawned. "Sorry, I think I'm going to sit down for a bit."

Fred nodded, though seeming a bit sad to end their conversation, and went to join George as she walked away.

"Would you look at him?" George pointed to Ron who was busying himself by telling Lavender and Parvati about the tryout. "If not for Percy, I think Ron would occupy the seat for biggest prat in our family."

"Oh, let him have at it, he doesn't get much of this," said Fred.

"Yes, poor thing only has being a Prefect and The-Boy-Who-Lived's best friend going for him," said George, sarcastically, and snorted.

Fred laughed.

Suddenly, there was a roar as the portrait hole opened. Harry had entered and Ron was running to him with his drink slopping down his front, beaming.

"Harry, I did it, I'm in, I'm Keeper!"

Harry gave him a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes, but Ron didn't notice.

"What? Oh—Brilliant!" the dark-haired boy said.

Fred and George joined them.

"Have a Butterbeer," said Ron, taking the bottle George had been holding, pressing it at Harry's chest.

George opened his mouth to tell his brother off, when Ron continued, "I can't believe it—where's Hermione gone?"

"She's there," said Fred, pointing to an armchair by the fire where Hermione was dozing, the grip on her bottle dangerously slack. He ignored the raised eyebrow his twin was sending him for being able to spot her so fast, and took a big gulp of his drink.

"Well, she said she was pleased when I told her," said Ron, looking slightly put out.

When it looked like he was thinking about waking her up, Fred sent an alarmed look to George, trying to signal him something. George followed Fred's line of sight and spotted the first-years approaching, their noses a little red and the rest of their faces pale.

"Let her sleep," said George hastily.

Harry noticed the urgency in George's voice and glanced at the younger students. Understanding dawned on his face as he (and Real Hermione) gathered why George appeared so reluctant to waking Hermione up, seeing as how she would definitely scold the twins for continuing their 'Nosebleed Nougat' experiment on the young.

 _Those lying little . . ._

Before Hermione had finished her thought, the scenery changed.

Fred, George and Lee were making their way towards herself, Harry and Ron at the Gryffindor table.

"—if you want to know what grades we got, ask," said Ron sharply.

Memory 'Mione began to stutter nervously. "I don't— I didn't mean—well, if you want to tell me—"

"I got a P," said Ron, ladling soup into his bowl. "Happy?"

"Well, that's nothing to be ashamed of," said Fred, seating himself on Harry's right, opposite Hermione. "Nothing wrong with a good healthy P."

Lee and George grinned and sat down next to him.

"But," said Hermione, looking at him with furrowed brows, "doesn't P stand for . . ."

"Poor, yeah," said Lee. "Still, better than D, isn't it? 'Dreadful'?"

Harry coughed.

Hermione absently stirred her soup, not quite interested in eating, as she pressed the others for information. "So top grade's O for 'Outstanding', and then there's A—"

"No, E," George corrected her, "E for 'Exceeds Expectations'. And I've always thought Fred and I should've got E in everything, because we exceeded expectations just by turning up for the exams."

They all laughed except Hermione, who ploughed on, "So, after E it's A for 'Acceptable', and that's the last pass grade, isn't it?"

"Yep," said Fred, dunking an entire roll in his soup and transferred it to his mouth, about to swallow it whole, when Hermione raised a disapproving eyebrow. He responded with a smile, making his full cheeks looking like ones of a hamster. She grimaced and he finally let the food slide down his throat.

"Then you get P for 'Poor'and D for 'Dreadful'," said Ron, oblivious to the exchange.

"And then T," George reminded him.

"T?" asked Hermione, tearing her eyes away from Fred, looking appalled. "Even lower than a D? What on earth does that stand for?"

"Troll", said George.

Harry laughed.

"You lot had an inspected lesson yet?" Fred asked them.

"No," said Hermione at once. "Have you?"

"Just now, before lunch," said George. "Charms."

"What was it like?" Harry and Hermione asked together.

Fred shrugged. "Not that bad. Umbridge just lurked in the corner making notes on a clipboard. You know what Flitwick's like, he treated her like a guest, didn't seem to bother him at all. She didn't say much. Asked Alicia a couple of questions about what the classes are normally like, Alicia told her they were really good, that was it."

"I can't see old Flitwick getting marked down," said George, "he usually gets everyone through their exams all right."

"Who've you got this afternoon?" Fred asked Harry.

"Trelawney—"

"A T if ever I saw one."

"— and Umbridge herself."

The three seventh years raised their eyebrows at that.

"Well, be a good boy and keep your temper with Umbridge today" said George. "Angelina'll do her nut if you miss any more Quidditch practices."

There was a new memory.

"Come on, Ron."

"Do you really think it's such a good idea?" Ron asked, frowning as Hermione pulled him with her by the sleeve.

"It's the _only_ idea. Besides, we already promised Harry we'd speak with people."

"You, _you_ promised."

Hermione let go of him, and after a few seconds of trying to stare him down, she turned. Ignoring his hissing protests, she walked up to the three seventh year students huddled in the corner of the common room who now rustled their scrolls and pretended being busy the closer the witch got.

"Oh, honestly, I know you were eavesdropping," said Hermione, taking a chair and sitting down with them, much to their apparent surprise. The edge of a paper bag labeled 'Fainting Fancies' poked out beneath a pile of parchment and caught her eye, but she evidently decided there were more urgent matters to be settled and looked at the three boys. She chewed her lip and Real Hermione knew that she was contemplating on how to proceed. She remembered that she'd then decided on using curiosity and the prospect of potential mischief making to gain their interest.

Hermione leaned in. "So, are any of you interested in defying a couple of rules?"

George and Lee's eyes were wide, but Fred grinned.

"Always," he said.

The other two, no doubt wondering if it was a trick on Hermione's end, grew even more surprised when she mirrored his grin.

"Excellent," she said, sending Fred an approving nod. "Meet us at the Hog's Head when the next Hogsmeade weekend comes along."

"'Us'?" asked Lee, speaking for the first time since she'd sat down.

"Yeah, and what rules would we be breaking exactly?" asked George.

Hermione took a moment to look behind her, spotting Ron lingering a few steps away. He seemed to realize she wanted his help and begrudgingly strode over.

"Hello," he told his brothers and Lee. Albeit a bit sullenly.

"Ron, your brothers were wondering what we're doing," said Hermione.

"Well, why don't you tell them, it's your idea," he responded.

"It's not just mine—"

"It is, though, and to be honest, it's a brilliant idea, but I don't look forward to having Harry yell at me again—"

"He agreed! He said it was fine!"

"Would one of you mind explaining what's going on?"

Hermione and Ron put their bickering to rest for the time being, and the former looked at George. "We would like to form a Defence class," she said.

"A Defence class?" George repeated.

Hermione nodded. "Yes." She leaned in again, and this time the boys did too, even Ron from where he was standing. "We can all agree that Umbridge is terrible. Therefore, I am proposing we take the matter of learning proper Defence Against the Dark Arts into our own hands."

Lee raised an eyebrow. "How would we do that? Who's going to teach us?"

Hermione and Ron looked at each other.

"Harry," she said. "We've spoken to him, and he's not entirely against the idea. _My_ idea," she corrected after Ron looked at her. "I don't doubt that _anyone_ would be more qualified than Umbridge, but Harry is probably the best we've got."

"He has survived a lot, that one," agreed Fred. "So, these lessons, how would we go about—"

Hermione looked happy that someone appeared open to the idea, and perhaps even enthusiastic, but she had to stop him. "We don't have everything settled. For now, we're just scanning for people who might be interested, and who, of course, don't agree with Umbridge's . . . _teaching_." She fought a grimace at the last word.

"We thought you lot would be up for defying her," said Ron, "and that you would agree that Harry is more than appropriate to give us advice and such."

"Oh, so _now_ Harry's fit to teach?" Hermione said in a low voice, almost rolling her eyes.

Ron actually did roll his eyes. "So, what do you say?"

The other three didn't require any further persuasion of any kind and eagerly agreed.

"Mind if we tell the girls about it, though?" asked George. "You know, Katie, Angelina and Alicia. They would definitely be up for this."

Hermione nodded. "That would be great. In fact, as many as you can possibly think of would be good. I'm sure this is affecting many more than we've probably realized. And people need to learn, you know . . . considering everything."

There was a pause as they thought on Voldemort and the silent war taking place outside. Hermione and Ron excused themselves, on their way to determine who else might be interested. They found Lavender and Parvati sitting by the fire and the two witches soon gave huge squeals in excitement, followed by hushing noises from Hermione.

Real Hermione remembered with a certain newfound fondness how quickly the two of her dorm mates had agreed to join. Despite their differences; Lavender and Parvati, just like Hermione, always stood up for what they believed in.

"I never thought I'd live to see the day where Hermione Granger and our brother would be at the forefront of a secret resistance army," said George, looking amused and impressed.

"That's not really what they're doing, is it?" asked Lee.

"Well, going against Umbridge is really like you're going against the Ministry itself," continued George. "So, these little teaching sessions they have planned are very much a big sign of protest against what they're doing to the school. And I'm sure Granger knows that."

Fred gave a small chuckle. "Yes, Prefect Granger will abide and uphold the rules, so long as they don't mess with her education, because then she'll mess with you."

"Oh, stop looking so proud, it's sickening," urged George, while him and Lee grimaced at Fred's face.

The last thing Hermione saw before they turned to smoke was Fred swatting his brother with a roll of parchment.

What followed was predictably the meeting in Hog's Head. Hermione watched as, yet again, the swarm of students gave Aberforth the biggest crowd his pub probably had ever seen up until the battle of Hogwarts.

"Hi," said Fred, and ordered Butterbeers for everyone. Hermione, now as well as then, was impressed with his quick counting. Especially since they all moved around. "Cheers," he said while handing the drinks out, "Cough up, everyone, I haven't got enough gold for all of these . . ."

"Harry looks a bit nervous," observed George as the crowd scattered into seats.

"Yeah, it's almost like Granger hasn't told him we were coming," said Lee.

They quieted down when they'd all settled into chairs, and Hermione began speaking. "Well—er—hi."

Real Hermione stood next to Fred's seat, inwardly cringing at her own horrid speech. She listened as her younger self stumbled over words and stammered more than a couple of times.

"—because nobody could call that Defence Against the Dark Arts—" she said.

"Hear, hear," said Anthony Goldstein, causing memory Hermione to visibly cheer up, and real Hermione noticed how Fred's gaze flickered to the Ravenclaw, however briefly. For some reason, this made her feel uplifted as well. Ever since seeing him say he'd decided to simply stay friends with her, Hermione had felt . . . conflicted. She obviously didn't want for Fred to have spent his final years unable to move on, but a part of her—a most foul and dark one— enjoyed having him jealous. It was different from the way Ron had always displayed his jealousy. Perhaps because she herself had never had to suffer because of it.

Nevertheless, she realized that it was nothing that should be enjoyed, just as Fred long ago seemed to have been mature enough to understand that it wasn't something to get caught in, so she tried to shake it off. Tried to tuck it back, far, far, _far_ in the back of her mind.

The rest of the meeting went exactly as she'd remembered. People asked Harry about what really had happened the night Cedric died, and Harry was getting more and more distressed. Eventually, Susan Bones spoke up and as she asked him about his Patronus.

"So—is it really true? You make a stag Patronus?" she said.

"Yes," Harry answered.

"Blimey, Harry!" said Lee, obviously impressed with him. "I never knew that!"

Fred grew a grin, looking relieved for Harry's sake that people were enquiring something other than the horrible meeting at the Riddle cemetery. Warmth spread through Hermione's chest. The twins really cared for Harry, and even her memory-self threw a smile Fred's way at his next words, "Mum told Ron not to spread it around. She said you got enough attention as it was."

"She's not wrong," mumbled Harry, which had a couple of people laughing.

It wasn't long before the Weasley brothers once again proved their loyalty as Zacharias Smith accused Harry of trying to weasel his way out of teaching them things, simply because of Harry's modest nature (despite Harry himself denying it, which was ridiculous by itself).

"Here's an idea," said Ron, loudly, "why don't you shut your mouth?"

"Well, we've all turned up to learn from him and now he's telling us he can't really do any of it," Smith argued.

"That's not what he said," snarled Fred.

"Would you like us to clean out your ears for you?" asked George, pulling a long and lethal-looking metal instrument from inside one of his, Lee's and Fred's Zonko's bag.

Fred shrugged and gave the Hufflepuff a wicked grin. "Or any part of your body, really, we're not fussy where we stick this."

Young 'Mione knew that she had to intervene, and therefore hastily interrupted Fred before he could say anything else, "Yes, well, moving on . . ." She sent Fred the tiniest of warning glares, to which he responded with a badly suppressed grin, and a gentle pat on the instrument which he'd taken from George, meant to scare Zacharias who warily observed it nearby. She narrowed her eyes, and then returned her attention to the others. "The point is, are we agreed we want to take lessons from Harry?"

There was a murmur of general agreement, followed by a discussion regarding times to meet, the threat of Voldemort, and Heliopaths (courtesy of Luna). Once the crowd settled down once more, Hermione brought forth a piece of parchment and a quill.

"I—I think everybody should write their name down, just so we know who was here. But I also think," she said, and took a deep breath, "that we all ought to agree not to shout about what we're doing. So if you sign, you're agreeing not to tell Umbridge or anybody else what we're up to."

She glanced over at the crowd as she spoke, and noticed most of them looked uncertain about adding their names to a list. However, barely a couple of seconds passed since she'd finished before Fred reached out for the parchment and cheerfully wrote down his signature. George followed his brother's lead.

Some people afterwards made a fuss, but eventually they had all signed. There was an awkward moment of silence. Hermione didn't know what to say to them now, but luckily, that was settled for her.

"Well, time's ticking on," said Fred briskly, getting to his feet. "George, Lee and I have got items of a sensitive nature to purchase, we'll be seeing you all later."

His words inspired others to take their leave, and so the meeting ended.

Once out in the path leading back to the centre of Hogsmeade, the boys discussed what had just transpired.

"So it really is an army, isn't it?" asked Lee.

"Guess so," said George.

"Well, boys, I've got a good feeling about this," said Fred.

"Yeah, and you're in no way biased, I'm sure," teased Lee.

"Be nice," said George, "he's trying to be her friend. You know, that friend that reaches for a suspicious parchment without any hesitation, just because his _friend_ said to sign it. You know, that type of friend."

"Oy, I'm being supportive," said Fred. "That's what friends do."

"Right," chorused George and Lee.

"Whatever, let's just find the cream you talked about that could help with the boils," said Fred.

"Yes, let's," said George, "I haven't gotten around to ask Angelina out yet because of these." He gestured to his pants.

Hermione blushed as she realized where the boils were, and averted her eyes.

"Thinking that far ahead, are you?" said Lee, a huge teasing grin on his face.

"Would _you_ fancy dating a guy who's got boils on his balls?"

Fred and Lee laughed.

"Stupid 'Fever Fudge'," muttered George.

The memory switched.

It was the Great Hall. Neville, Dean, Fred, George and Ginny stood circled around Harry, Hermione and Ron. Their eyes, however, were all on Harry.

"Did you see it?"

"D'you reckon she knows?"

"What are we going to do?"

They bombarded Harry with questions, but he kept calm. "We're going to do it anyway, of course," he said, quietly.

"Knew you'd say that," said George, beaming and thumping Harry on the arm.

"The prefects as well?" said Fred, looking quizzically at Ron and Hermione.

"Of course," said Hermione, coolly.

Fred grinned approvingly.

"Here come Ernie and Hannah—"started Ron, but the memory shifted yet again.

It was late in the common room again.

". . .and that's another Galleon. . .and _another_ one. . .and another—" Fred glanced over to the seats by the fire. Hermione was watching him, her eyes narrowed into slits. With a smirk he faced the pile of money again. "And what's this? Another Galleon? Into the pile you go."

George and Lee were watching with barely hidden sniggers, but also slight caution. Hermione could tell they were preparing for any eventual attack, whether verbal or physical, from her. Sure, her memory self was sitting quietly a bit further away, but it was like it was the calm that occurred before a storm. It was unsettling, and unpredictable.

But nothing happened. And so the three of them successfully counted their earnings without interruption.

When it got late and they were done, they made their way to their room. Fred was the last one to the door leading to the boys' dormitories, but before shutting the door behind him he rattled his box of Galleons, making Hermione scowl at him. Once he shut it, he gave a laugh.

"You really should be careful or you might end up on the other end of her wand, Freddie," said George in front him.

"Oh, it's all good fun. And she deserved it for glaring at us all night. Honestly, can't a bloke projectile-vomit without an audience?"

"You loved the attention, admit it."

"Perhaps," said Fred, though his lasting grin was enough of an indication to prove that he in fact did love it.

The scene changed.

They were in the Room of Requirement, having their first official meeting as Dumbledore's Army. Well, soon-to-be Dumbledore's Army.

"I also think we ought to have a name," said Hermione brightly, her hand in the air. "It would promote a feeling of team spirit and unity, don't you think?"

"Can we be the Anti-Umbridge League?" said Angelina hopefully.

"Or the Ministry of Magic are Morons Group?" suggested Fred.

"I was thinking," said Hermione, frowning at Fred, and ignoring the wink he sent her for it, "more of a name that didn't tell everyone what we were up to, so that we can refer to it safely outside meetings."

Again, a new memory emerged.

The surroundings remained the same but the people were reshaped through a mist of whatever was in the Pensieve. Ron and memory Hermione were about to duel and Ron was walking several steps away, but not before telling her that he'd 'go easy' on her.

"Thank you, Ronald," said Hermione, looking at him with an incredulous look on her face.

George and Fred stop what they were doing and Real Hermione hears George bet a sickle on Ron winning, which Fred accepts. Once Hermione lands her _Expelliarmus_ , George reluctantly hands over the money to Fred.

"Thank you," he said, not smug or gleeful in the least, but simply as if he'd just known what would happen.

This scenario felt familiar to Hermione and she recalled it being the opposite during her sorting where Fred had bet _against_ her. She smiled at the possibility that he'd learned his lesson after that.

A new memory appeared.

She was standing down on the Quidditch pitch.

She quickly gathered that Gryffindor had just won their match against Slytherin as the Gryffindor team was cheering Harry for catching the Snitch. Well . . . save for Ron, who was already sullenly walking toward the changing rooms.

Nearby, Draco Malfoy sneered. He began taunting Harry with the lyrics for 'Weasley is our king', which Harry promptly ignored.

"— we couldn't fit in useless loser either—for his father, you know—"

Fred and George had realized what Malfoy was talking about. Halfway through shaking Harry's hand, they stiffened, looking round at Malfoy.

"Leave it!" said Angelina at once, taking Fred by the arm. "Leave it, Fred, let him yell, he's just sore he lost, the jumped-up little—"

"— but you like the Weasleys, don't you, Potter?" said Malfoy. "Spend holidays there and everything, don't you? Can't see how you stand the stink, but I suppose when you've been dragged up by Muggles, even the Weasleys' hovel smells okay—"

Harry grabbed hold of George. Meanwhile, it was taking the combined efforts of Angelina, Alicia and Katie to stop Fred leaping on Malfoy, who was laughing openly. Harry seemed to be looked around for Madam Hooch, but she was still berating Crabbe for his illegal Bludger attack.

"Or perhaps," said Malfoy, leering as he backed away, "you can remember what your mother's house stank like, Potter, and Weasleys pigsty reminds you of it —"

While Hermione tried her best to remember that this had been years ago, and that her relationship with Draco now proved that people could change, Harry released George, and a second later both of them were sprinting towards Malfoy. He had clearly forgotten that all the teachers were watching for he drew back the fist clutching the Snitch and sank it as hard as he could into Malfoys stomach.

"Harry! HARRY! GEORGE! NO!"

Hermione could hear girls' voices screaming, Malfoy yelling, George swearing, a whistle blowing and the bellowing of the crowd around her. Not until Madame Hooch yelled " _Impedimenta_!" , and he was knocked over backwards by the force of the spell, did Harry abandon the attempt to punch every inch of Malfoy he could reach.

"What do you think you're doing?" screamed Madam Hooch, as Harry leapt to his feet.

Malfoy was curled up on the ground, whimpering and moaning, his nose bloody; George was sporting a swollen lip; Fred was still being forcibly restrained by the three Chasers, and Crabbe was cackling in the background. "I've never seen behavior like it—" continued Madam Hooch, "back up to the castle, both of you, and straight to your Head of House's office! Go! Now."

Harry and George marched off the pitch, just as Ginny and Hermione made their way toward the others.

"What happened?" asked Ginny.

Angelina ignored her question and rounded on Fred. "What got into you? You know he was only—"

"He insulted my family, Ange," said Fred. "And Harry's mother!"

"He did _what_?" asked Ginny, now staring in Malfoy's direction. The Slytherins were making their way towards their changing room now that sufficient damage had been done, though Malfoy looked like he was still in pain. The look on Ginny's face told everyone that she wouldn't mind inflicting more.

"Ginny," warned Hermione.

"Yes, let's leave this behind us," said Katie.

"Not bloody likely," said Alicia. "Knowing Malfoy, there's no way he won't snitch to Umbridge about this."

"And she's got it in for Harry, so there's no question about whether or not she'll jump on this, if she hasn't already," finished Angelina miserably. She looked at Fred again. "I told you to leave it."

"And I already told you—"He'd been on his way to snap back at her, but somehow the new audience members had him less eager to lash out. "Forget it."

The two of them stared at the ground, their arms crossed.

"Have any of you seen Ron?" Hermione asked Katie and Alicia quietly. At this, the others exchanged glances, but didn't say anything, not even as Fred immediately walked away.

* * *

~o0o~

* * *

 **A/N: OH. MY. GOD. I'M SO SORRY.**

 **I know it's been forever and I apologise so much! If you follow me on tumblr, I've kinda answered why the long delay, but basically:**

 **-I had to focus on school**

 **-Then when I was done it was super difficult to get back to writing this**

 **-Editing these take forever because I have to double and triple check the books so everything matches**

 **I'm so so so grateful though that there still are people commenting and stuff. Just gaaah, all the hugs to you!**

 **Thank you for sticking with me and the story, I appreciate the heck out of you all!**

 **Until next time!**  
 **/Primrue**


	18. Fifth Year (Part three)

Fifth Year (Part three)

* * *

~o0o~

* * *

The atmosphere couldn't be any more different in the new memory. First of all, Hermione could hear laughter. Second, that laughter actually came from the twins.

"Not fair, two on one," said Lee as Fred and George sent snow balls at him; most of which missed and sailed up to the Gryffindor Tower.

"Well, that's what you get for telling Alicia 'Puking Pastilles' was your idea."

"Yeah, don't come here and take credit—"

"But it _was_ my idea! Remember? I said 'You should make something that makes you sick' and then, two weeks later, you were developing the Pastilles!"

The twins looked at each other.

"Nope, no memory of this," said Fred.

"You're just embarrassing yourself, Lee," said George.

Fred was kneeling down to gather some more snow in his hands when he saw Hermione walk by on her way to Hagrid's. He grinned mischievously and sent the finished snow ball her way, hitting her on the bum.

She gave a huge yelp.

"Going somewhere, Grang—"

Fred ducked as she hexed a massive snow ball in his direction. It missed and instead hit the window where Ron had poked his nose out for a second to yell at them.

Memory Hermione looked mortified. She clutched her hands to her mouth as the twins laughed. Ron glared at them, though he didn't notice Hermione and therefore all his anger was directed at his brothers. He sharply withdrew his head and slammed the window shut.

"Thank you, Hermione, that couldn't have gone better than if we'd planned it," said George, laughing.

"It wouldn't surprise me if you actually _had_ planned it," said Hermione. She was still looking anxious about having attacked Ron, and the twins and Lee clutching their stomachs hadn't helped. With a frown etched on her face she moved to leave, but after taking a step she stopped and turned back around. Before the boys knew what hit them, she'd hexed for all the snow on the tree next to them to fall down.

That shut them up.

Fred's head emerged from the pile, his nose and ears red, and already shivering. But as he watched Hermione tread through the snow to Hagrid's, her chin victoriously up in the air, his face lit up and he couldn't look less bothered by the cold.

A new memory in the Room of Requirement took form and Hermione was torn away from the previous heartwarming image.

Harry was calling a meeting to order.

"Okay," he said, "I thought this evening we should just go over the things we've done so far, because it's the last meeting before the holidays and there's no point starting anything new before a three-week break—"

"We're not doing anything new?" said Zacharias Smith, loud enough for everyone to hear. He continued his disgruntled 'whisper', "If I'd known that, I wouldn't have come."

"We're all really sorry Harry didn't tell you, then," said Fred loudly.

He grinned as people sniggered at his joke— _Smug_ _bastard,_ Hermione thought— and when he saw memory 'Mione attempt to discreetly hide her laugh with her hand, his grin grew even wider.

There was a new memory.

"FILTH! DISGRACE ON THE ANCIENT HOUSE OF BLACK—"

"Shut up, woman, it's Christmas!" shouted Sirius and pulled the curtains. He moved on and headed for the door where someone was knocking.

Fred and George were making their way down the stairs when Sirius opened it and exclaimed, "Hermione! What a pleasant surprise!"

Fred tripped on a step.

George sniggered behind him, watching while Fred pulled himself up using the railing he'd frantically reached out to grab just before hitting the floor. Hermione watched on being equally amused.

Sirius and Memory Hermione came into view as they walked through the hallway to the foot of the stairs.

"Here, let me take that," said Sirius. "I thought you were spending Christmas with your parents?"

"Thank you," said Hermione as she handed the old Marauder her bag, her face pink from the cold outside and the snow in her hair. "And yes, I was, but when I heard about what happened I couldn't not be here. I came as soon as I could on the Knight Bus."

"A lady venturing outside in the dark all by herself? Scandalous," said George and nudged his brother so they could continue down.

Memory Hermione appeared to just have noticed them and looked up to where they descended.

"Oh, you know Granger, George. If anyone can fend for themselves it's her," said Fred when they reached the bottom, and sent her a wink which she rolled her eyes at.

Sirius stood next to them, watching the exchange with a smile, though anyone who paid attention could tell it was strained. Meanwhile, Fred and George were clearly avoiding looking at him. Hermione had heard about the fight between Sirius and Fred later, but at the moment her younger self glanced confused between the Marauder and the twins, wondering where on earth this new tension stemmed from.

Fred and George didn't stay for long and continued towards the kitchen, only to have their mother emerge from there and push them aside.

"Hermione, dear! So glad to see you," she said.

"You too, Mrs. Weasley," she said, receiving her hug with a sad smile, expressing her condolences, "I'm so sorry I couldn't be here sooner, it's just with Umbridge—"

Mrs. Weasley shook her head. "Nonsense, there's nothing to apologize for. You're here now, after all."

"Hermione!"

Ron and Ginny appeared after their mother and hugged their friend. Fred and George sent them dirty looks, having once again been pushed aside.

Their mother clasped her hands together with a sounding clap, and said, "Now, children, go to Ron and Harry's bedroom, I'll light a fire and send you some sandwiches while you talk."

"I'll go get Harry then," said Hermione, turning to Ron and Ginny. "How bad is it?"

The memory changed.

Harry, Ron, Hermione, Fred, George and Ginny were struggling up the drive that led to Hogwarts, dragging their trunks behind them.

Hermione was talking about knitting some hats for the elves before going to sleep.

"You know, they keep disappearing," she said, barely concealing her excitement, even as she strained to pull her baggage with her.

A few steps ahead, George looked at Fred. "You haven't been taking them while I wasn't looking, have you?"

"Are you kidding?" asked Fred. "I only did it that first time because I was so angry at her. I wouldn't risk doing it again. Whoever's collecting them, it's not me."

They turned into fog and new surroundings took shape.

It was late in the common room, and Fred and George were demonstrating their 'Headless Hats'. Harry passed them, successfully having ducked away from George trying to put one on his head.

"What's wrong with Harry?" asked George.

"Dunno," said Fred. "But I suspect they do." He gestured to Hermione and Ron who were approaching.

"Go and see to him, Ron," said Hermione, urging him forward. "After his sessions with Professor Snape . . . I'm sure his mind is weak right now."

"I will," said Ron gravely. "See you tomorrow, 'Mione."

"Okay," said Hermione, and watched him enter the door leading to the boys' dormitory. She then realized she was standing in between the twins.

"Why's Harry's mind weak?" asked Fred.

"Yeah, is he not all right?" asked George.

Memory 'Mione chewed her lip, contemplating what to tell them. "Well, he's been practicing some magic that left him quite drained. I just wanted Ron to make sure he was okay."

The twins didn't ask any more questions, seeming to understand that Hermione probably wouldn't be able to answer them anyway. Acting as if on impulse, Fred put one of the hats on her head.

She gave a shriek.

"Honestly! I don't have time for this," said Hermione while flinging her arms around trying to locate her head to pull the hat off.

"C'mon, Hermione," said George, "it looks good on you."

"Very funny," came her reply. "Argh! How do you get this ruddy thing off?"

It took another second, and then Hermione managed to pull it off her head. She returned it to Fred and tried uselessly to rearrange her locks to their previous order. Or as close to order as they'd ever get without products. She then stormed back to her seat.

"I think you missed on that one, Freddie," said George.

"At least it took her mind off of worrying," said Fred, half-heartedly.

The following memory took place in Lee, Fred and George's dorm. It wasn't less messy than the previous time she'd been there, but one huge difference was that the mess now solely consisted of boxes of Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes products. Hermione observed that the lines of boxes stopped drastically by the fourth bed, the area clear of anything Weasley related. _Poor fellow_ , she mused, _can't have been easy_ _sharing a dorm with these three . . ._

A hiss of pain interrupted her thoughts, and Hermione focused on watching the memory. Lee was sitting in one of the beds, dousing his hand in Murtlap essence while the boys talked.

"Angie's still pissed at me," said George, laying in the bed next to Lee's. "I mean, it was bad enough that I didn't ask her out because of these stupid boils, but now that I cost her the Quidditch team . . . things are tense."

Leaning against the side of George's bed was Fred, who now looked up from where he sat on the floor. "Ease up, mate," he said, "she'll come around. This is Angelina we're talking about. She gets angry, and then she isn't."

"Yeah, but . . ."

"Just don't try to talk to her now," interrupted Lee, his whole body visibly more relaxed than before thanks to the Murtlap. "Nothing pisses her off more than being talked to while being pissed off."

"You would know," scoffed George. "You're lucky she lets you keep your limbs after the comments you make during the matches. Actually, you're lucky I do, as well."

Fred chuckled.

"Those are just some friendly jokes," said Lee. "Angelina knows that, not my fault the rest of the school don't."

"Right."

Lee shook his head, and then stared at his hand. "Blimey, speaking of limbs . . . My hand already feels loads better! You should try this Murtlap essence, guys. Its healing properties might work on your . . . privates."

The twins helped themselves to what was left of Lee's Murtlap that he wasn't using at the moment and Fred took first shift in the bathroom. To her mortification, Hermione was pulled along with him. She immediately covered her eyes, even contemplating getting her head out of the Pensieve.

 _Of course, it's his memory so I go where he goes, but I could've lived without this_ , she thought, _Please be over soon, please, please . . ._

While Hermione groaned in discomfort and wondered why on earth he would have added this memory for someone else to see—for _her_ to see—Fred's memory self was thrilled.

"Amazing!" he called out. "I might need more of it to let it work properly, but it's still working. Who told you about this?"

"Harry," said Lee from the other side of the door. "Although, he got it from Hermione."

Hermione heard the door handle rattle and she dared a glance. She let out a sound of relief, and watched as Fred emerged from the bathroom with a grin. "'Course he did."

George sniggered, moving to the bathroom to try out his share of the Murtlap essence. "I wonder how Hermione will feel when she discovers that she's unintentionally helped us develop a product."

"Probably curse herself," said Lee, smirking, "Or you."

There was a new memory.

It was the Gryffindor common room. Harry and Hermione were sitting studying by a table when Fred and George arrived.

"Ron and Ginny not here?" asked Fred, looking around as he pulled up a chair, and when Harry shook his head, he said, "Good. We were watching their practice. They're going to be slaughtered. They're complete rubbish without us."

"Come on, Ginny's not bad," said George, sitting himself down next to Fred. "Actually, I dunno how she got so good, seeing how we never let her play with us."

Both Hermiones bit back their annoyance at this, and young Hermione said, "She's been breaking into your broom shed in the garden since the age of six and taking each of your brooms out in turn when you weren't looking." She let a satisfied smile grow when George mumbled in response, clearly impressed, and then peered over her pile of Ancient Runes books. "Has Ron saved a goal yet?"

"Well, he can do it if he doesn't think anyone's watching him," said Fred, rolling his eyes. "So all we have to do is ask the crowd to turn their backs and talk amongst themselves every time the Quaffle goes up his end on Saturday." He got up again and moved restlessly to the window, staring out across the dark grounds. "You know," he said, "Quidditch was about the only thing in this place worth staying for." Fred exchanged a quick saddened look with George who clearly was thinking the same thing. They hadn't wanted to come back in the first place really, but had mostly done it for Harry, Ron and Ginny, and perhaps even Hermione, and with the increased deaths and people going missing outside, Hermione did in hindsight not find herself that upset about them wanting to leave. Her young counterpart, however, did.

"You've got exams coming!" she said, and cast Fred a stern look.

"Told you already, we're not fussed about NEWTs," said Fred. "The Snackboxes are ready to roll, we found out how to get rid of these boils, just a couple of drops of Murtlap essence sorts them, Lee put us up to it."' He was hiding his grin, and his twin struggled to do the same; while Fred faced the window again, George yawned widely. Hermione realized they were thinking about the irony of having her telling them to stay, when it was she— and not Lee really— who was to thank for the Murtlap.

"I dunno if I even want to watch this match," said George, adopting a miserable disposition, "If Zacharias Smith beats us I might have to kill myself."

"Kill him, more like," said Fred firmly.

"That's the trouble with Quidditch," said Hermione absentmindedly and, unbeknownst to them, still thinking about what Fred had said about Lee and the Murtlap, wondering where the latter boy had heard about it, "it creates all this bad feeling and tension between the houses."

She looked up to find her copy of Spellman's Syllabary, and caught Fred, George and Harry all staring at her with expressions of mingled disgust and incredulity on their faces.

"Well, it does!" she said impatiently. "It's only a game, isn't it?"

She immediately realized that had been the wrong thing to say, and she set her face into a stubborn, unrelenting face as the three boys kept staring. For all the things Hermione now appreciated about Fred, he never understood the flaws in Quidditch and had been very passionate about the sport, much like all the other boys she'd dated. Well, the two boys she'd dated . . .

"Hermione," said Harry, shaking his head, "you're good at feelings and stuff, but you just don't understand about Quidditch."

George mouthed 'feelings?' to Fred, who got the joke, but only gave a faint smile that didn't quite reach his eyes.

 _Har Har, let's laugh at Hermione, because she never saw that Fred liked her_ . . .

Young Hermione returned to her translation of runes. "Maybe not," she said darkly, "but at least my happiness doesn't depend on Ron's goalkeeping ability."

The memory switched.

Hermione looked around, seeing the Great Hall take shape, and unfortunately—along with it— Umbridge.

"What is going on here?" she asked, her voice falsely sweet and proper disgusting to Hermione's ears.

Harry looked up from the table, his hands full of envelopes. Umbridge was standing behind Fred and Luna, her bulging toad's eyes scanning the mess of owls and letters on the table in front of Harry and Hermione.

"Why have you got all these letters, Mr. Potter?" Umbridge asked, slowly.

"Is that a crime now?" said Fred loudly. "Getting mail?"

Opposite him, Hermione was sending him warning looks, and even went as far as reach her foot out to nudge him, so he could remember to keep his temper; the incident at the Quidditch pitch was still fresh in everyone's memory.

Fred didn't look at her, but she could tell he'd understood, and held his tongue. It was lucky he managed because not a second later did Umbridge threaten him with detention if he wasn't careful.

The memory changed.

The twins were talking in their dormitory, sitting on one of the beds with the curtains mostly drawn, their whispers urgent and sounding serious. Hermione stepped closer to peek through the gap and to hear what they were saying.

"You mean— but to just leave?" asked George.

"Not just leave," said Fred, "We're the Weasley twins, we never do anything half-assed, do we?"

"No, because we have a double set of buttocks."

"Precisely," said Fred. "Chasing off our Headmaster . . . I think it's time we make her realize who she's messing with."

"Brilliant." George was grinning, but the grin quickly fell. "What about the others, though?"

"What about them?"

"Well, we came here for them."

Fred sighed. "I know, but . . . face it, George; we can't do anything here. Our hands are tied. Now that Dumbledore's gone, there's nothing stopping that old toad from owning us completely. At least if we get out of here we can make a difference. Our products will sell and we can join the Order properly." Fred smiled. "And the kids have shown they can stand up for themselves, if the D.A. did anything it was showing that."

George nodded. "True, and it's not like us being here stops Umbridge from doing anything. At least if we make our exit a good one, we get to stick it to her, and she can't do anything about it."

"We'll make it count," said Fred. "I promise."

Their room became the Entrance Hall.

Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ernie Macmillan stood looking towards the giant hour-glasses set in niches along the wall behind them, which recorded the house-points. As they watched, stones flew upwards, reducing the amounts in the lower bulbs of three of the houses. In fact, the only glass that seemed unchanged was the emerald-filled one of Slytherin.

"Noticed, have you?" said Fred's voice.

He and George had just come down the marble staircase and joined Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ernie in front of the hour-glasses.

"Malfoy just docked us all about fifty points," said Harry furiously, as they watched several more stones fly upwards from the Gryffindor hour-glass.

"Yeah, Montague tried to do us during break," said George.

"What do you mean, 'tried'?" said Ron quickly.

"He never managed to get all the words out," said Fred, "due to the fact that we forced him headfirst into that Vanishing Cabinet on the first floor."

Hermione looked very shocked.

"But you'll get into terrible trouble!"

"Not until Montague reappears, and that could take weeks, I dunno where we sent him," said Fred coolly. "Anyway… we've decided we don't care about getting into trouble anymore."

"Have you ever?" asked Hermione.

"Course we have," said George. "Never been expelled, have we?"

"We've always known where to draw the line," said Fred.

"We might have put a toe across it occasionally," said George.

"But we've always stopped short of causing real mayhem," said Fred.

"But now?" said Ron tentatively.

"Well, now—" said George.

"—what with Dumbledore gone—" said Fred.

"—we reckon a bit of mayhem —" said George.

"— is exactly what our dear new Head deserves," said Fred.

"You mustn't!" whispered Hermione. "You really mustn't! She'd love a reason to expel you!"

"You don't get it, Hermione, do you?" said Fred, smiling at her. "We don't care about staying anymore. We'd walk out right now if we weren't determined to do our bit for Dumbledore first. So, anyway," he checked his watch, "phase one is about to begin. I'd get in the Great Hall for lunch, if I were you, that way the teachers will see you can't have had anything to do with it."

"Anything to do with what?" said Hermione anxiously.

"You'll see," said George. "Run along, now."

Fred and George turned away to disappear into the swelling crowd descending the stairs towards lunch. Looking highly disconcerted, Ernie muttered something about unfinished Transfiguration homework and scurried away.

"I think we should get out of here, you know," said Hermione nervously. "Just in case"

There was a new memory.

Fred and George were surrounded by people cheering them on in the Gryffindor common room. Even past Hermione fought her way through the excited crowd to congratulate them.

"They were wonderful fireworks," she said admiringly.

"Thanks," said George, looking both surprised and pleased. He shot Fred a brief look, before turning his attention back on her. "Weasleys' Wildfire Whiz-bangs. Only thing is, we used our whole stock; we're going to have to start again from scratch now."

"It was worth it, though," said Fred, who was taking orders from clamouring Gryffindors, appearing not too affected by Hermione's compliment. Looking closer though, there was a tug on one of the corners of his lips. "If you want to add your name to the waiting list, Hermione, it's five Galleons for your Basic Blaze box and twenty for Deflagration Deluxe . . ."

Hermione politely declined and returned to the table where Harry and Ron were sitting.

It was tough to hear what they were saying through the crowded common room, but Hermione remembered how she'd advised the boys to put off doing their homework. She smiled, recalling even having proclaimed herself feeling . . . _rebellious_.

Soon, the memory would change, and Hermione was sure what would show. What her feeling of rebellion would bring her that evening. And she hoped that watching it knowing what she knew now wouldn't be _too_ hurtful . . .

Time sped forward and Hermione held her breath. When the mist cleared and she saw her young self stand by the window she let it out.

 _So . . . he did choose to include it . . ._

Well, there was nothing she could do, but watch . . .

"Oh, forget it, I can't! I have no idea how these things work!" said young Hermione.

"That's why we're going to teach you, Hermione," said Fred calmly. "Well, I am, since I have no idea where my brother went."

"All right," said Hermione, dubiously eyeing the rocket she held. "So I just light this one and let it go out the window, simple as that?"

"Simple as that."

"It won't explode into my face?"

Fred laughed. "No, it won't explode in your face. I promise."

"Okay, so I'll just . . . _Incendio_!" Hermione set the rocket alight; the fire immediately eating away at the string, and she dropped it hastily, almost throwing it away in fear.

"Not too bad— holy mother of hippogriff!" said Fred, leaning out the window sill.

"What happened?" asked Hermione and opened her previously closed eyes.

"The rocket hit one of those Catherine wheels hovering in the air and . . . and it's like they mated," said Fred, shoulders shaking with laughter. "Come have a look!"

Leaning out beside him, Hermione gasped, her hand flying to her mouth. Then she laughed with him. "Oh, heavens, what have I done?"

Glittering pink and silver winged piglets were now soaring past the windows of Gryffindor Tower. Everyone around them in the common room whooped appreciatively.

Hermione and Fred kept on laughing together, delighting in the glorious mishap. They turned to each other with smiles etched on their faces, and after their gazes locked the chuckles turned softer, gradually decreasing in volume and strength until they faded completely.

Real Hermione watched as they stood there, both growing a bit unsure on what to do. Because they were close. Much closer than Hermione had ever remembered being to Fred before.

She had had an amazing day and night ever since the twins had executed the first part of their plan to mess with Umbridge. She was unbelievably happy and content with life at this moment. So much so that when she looked at Fred she didn't think about the fact that he was two years her senior, or even that he was Ron's brother. Instead, she reflected on how nice his laugh lines were, and how attractive his face was in the light of the fireworks.

She'd always known the twins were a handsome duo (and even if she hadn't, her gossiping roommates had certainly made that clear), but never had she herself been attracted to either of them. She liked a good-looking man; it was one thing she was sort of embarrassed to admit. Lockhart had made a fool of her, so ever since her second year she'd focused on personalities instead, swearing off falling for good looks forever.

And Fred was suddenly _very_ good-looking . . .

Memory Hermione let her eyes fall to his lips for the briefest moment and Hermione remembered how this was when she had— for one second—seen him as something other than just a prankster. Not just a friend. But a potential . . . something.

And just as quickly as she'd thought it, Fred pulled himself away.

With his confident smirk, acting as if nothing happened, Fred told her he needed to find George.

"Right, er . . . I should head to bed, it's quite late," said Hermione, fighting the blush. She'd figured that if he was acting casual about it then so should she. So they'd had lingering eye contact and an almost kiss; it was probably nothing in Fred Weasley's world anyway. At least, that's what she'd thought. "Okay, so, thank you and good night, Fred."

"Good night," said Fred, smiling softly at her.

Young Hermione nodded. "Right."

She nodded to herself once more and stepped away, blissfully unaware of how Fred's soft smile turned into a pained expression behind her.

* * *

~o0o~

* * *

 **A/N: Hello!**

 **Woooow! So many reviews! I'm so happy there are so many still reading! Thank you!**

 **And to all new followers: welcome! *hugs***

 **Gotta tell you, it's nice to have gotten some flow for writing this story back. :D**

 **One quick thing before I end this author's note:**  
 **As much as I love hearing from you I would be ever so grateful if you could avoid telling me to update. I know you probably mean well and that you're just expressing your excitement for the story (which is great!), but the effect it has on me is that I get stressed instead of motivated. I wouldn't say anything if it wasn't affecting me, believe me, but unfortunately it does. And even if you don't really care what happens to me, consider this: if I feel stressed there's not gonna be a lot of writing, ergo no quick update.**

 **Gosh, I hated writing that, but I hope you understand why. I always feel it's better to be honest than to let it build up. And I want to keep going with the story so if I notice that there's something that might get in the way, I'm gonna try to prevent it.**

 **I do hope you know that I still appreciate you all, it's just that oooone thing that I've had a hard time dealing with.**

 **Anyway, many hugs and ducklings to you and h** **ope you enjoyed this update!**

 **Until next time!**  
 **/Primrue**


	19. Fifth Year (Part four)

Fifth Year (part four)

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~o0o~

* * *

As Hermione dealt with the onslaught of emotions she'd predicted would come upon reliving that last scene, the memory changed. She took a deep breath and urged herself to keep it together at least until the vial was done with.

Observing the new memory, she saw that Harry, Ron and younger Hermione were situated around a table, looking through a pile leaflets. Fred and George prepared to sneak up on them and she followed.

"Hey," said Fred into Harry's ear, making her roll her eyes at his dramatic entrance. Fred then continued to stretch his legs out on the table in front of them, causing several booklets on careers within the Ministry of Magic to slide off onto the floor. "Ginny's had a word with us about you. She says you need to talk to Sirius?"

"What?" said memory Hermione sharply and froze, her hand halfway towards picking up one of the books.

"Yeah . . ." said Harry, "yeah, I thought I'd like—"

"Don't be so ridiculous," said Hermione, straightening up and looking at him as though she could not believe her eyes. "With Umbridge groping around in the fires and frisking the owls?"

"Well, we think we can find a way around that," said George, stretching and smiling. "It's a simple matter of causing a diversion. Now, you might have noticed that we have been rather quiet on the mayhem front during the Easter holidays?"

"What was the point, we asked ourselves, of disrupting leisure time?" continued Fred. "No point at all, we answered ourselves. And of course, we'd have messed up people's revision, too, which would be the very last thing we'd want to do."

He gave memory 'Mione a sanctimonious little nod. She looked rather taken aback by his thoughtfulness.

 _Not to mention, how odd it was he was acting this thoughtful after our almost 'kiss',_ Hermione mused. _I'd already figured he didn't think anything of it—didn't think anything of_ _ **me**_ _— and yet he showed consideration for my studies. It had been somewhat confusing._

Memory Hermione was still looking at Fred, her mind working to figure out his motives, when he gave a tiny cough.

"But it's business as usual from tomorrow," Fred continued briskly. "And if we're going to be causing a bit of an uproar, why not do it so that Harry can have his chat with Sirius?"

"Yes, but _still_ ," said Hermione, distracted from her previous thoughts now by the change of topic, and instead adopted an air of having to explain something very simple to somebody very obtuse, "even if you _do_ cause a diversion, how is Harry supposed to talk to him?"

"Umbridge's office," said Harry quietly.

The last thing Hermione saw was her counterpart flaring her nostrils, staring at Harry with wild eyes. "Are—you—insane?"

The tower disappeared and instead there was the Entrance Hall, where students stood gathered around in a ring along the walls. The onlookers were from all the different houses, and members of Umbridge's beloved 'Inquisitorial Squad' were among them. Hermione mentally snorted.

In the middle of the hall stood Fred and George. To someone less intelligent they would appear cornered. And naturally, that's exactly what Umbridge thought as she strode toward them. Fred and George merely summoned their brooms, swung their legs over them, and prepared to take off.

"We won't be seeing you," said Fred.

"Yeah, don't bother to keep in touch," said George.

Fred looked around at the assembled students, at the silent, watchful crowd. She noticed that his eyes found her younger self. He grinned.

"If anyone fancies buying a Portable Swamp, as demonstrated upstairs, come to number ninety-three, Diagon Alley—Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes," he said in a loud voice. "Our new premises!"

"Special discounts to Hogwarts students who swear they're going to use our products to get rid of this old bat," added George, pointing at Umbridge.

"STOP THEM!" shrieked Umbridge, but it was too late. As the Inquisitorial Squad closed in, Fred and George (and Real Hermione who was pulled to go wherever Fred went) kicked off from the floor, shooting fifteen feet into the air. Fred looked across the hall at the poltergeist bobbing on his level above the crowd.

"Give her hell from us, Peeves."

And Peeves, who nobody had ever seen take an order from a student before, swept his belled hat from his head and sprang to a salute as Fred and George wheeled about to tumultuous applause from the students below and sped out of the open front doors into the sunset.

The sunset became the twins' apartment, and Hermione steadied herself as she was transferred from the back of a moving broom to solid ground.

It didn't quite resemble the apartment Hermione had come to know, suggesting they hadn't fully set it up yet. Boxes adorned the walls and the furniture screamed new.

Fred was sitting by the kitchen table, drinking pumpkin juice and eating a sandwich. George strolled in, enthusiastically waving something in his hand.

"Our first letter to the new apartment!" he announced.

"Who's it from?" asked Fred, looking eager and putting down his sandwich.

"Ginny. Probably to tell us how legendary we are," George grinned.

"Well, go on, read it," said Fred.

George cleared his throat dramatically and read aloud:

"Dear Fred and George,

I hope you're pleased with yourselves. The school is full blown utter chaos, and everyone couldn't be happier. It wouldn't surprise me if people would name your exit as the prankster day. Peeves has followed your order and provided hell for our dear Defence Against the Dark Arts professor, but even that isn't the most unbelievable news. For all the people who are continuing your legacy, what has come to my attention is that even our favourite Prefect has been caught up in the spirit of trickery. The other day, Pansy Parkinson was caught walking around with antlers sprouting from her head. I didn't give it much thought beyond 'ha ha!' but it was obvious how much it delighted said Prefect. Upon investigating the issue and prodding her for answers, she finally relented yesterday and said that she might or might not have suggested to some people to target the Slytherin girl. Obviously, I'd bet on the former. So, I hope you're happy that you've corrupted innocent Miss G—. I also hope to hear how your business is doing and I look forward to seeing it in person whenever Mum sees fit. (Hope she hasn't given you too much grief).

Miss you already!

Ginny.

P.S. You might want to speak to Lee once more. I know you already did, but he's been feeling down."

Fred and George looked at each other, absorbing the news.

"Well," said George finally, "if I wasn't already sympathetic, Fred, I'd say you're one poor soul."

"What d'you mean?"

George shrugged. "Just as we leave, Granger comes around."

Fred gave small absent nods, seemingly thinking about something, as George continued explaining how unfortunate the situation was and how he also was pleasantly surprised at the attitude she was adopting now, and then how they really should have taken greater care to assure Lee didn't feel left behind—

"I almost kissed her!" Fred blurted.

" _What_?!" George stopped in his ramblings and stared wide-eyed at his brother. "When did this happen?!"

Fred winced at his brother's loud voice, only to then grimace from the guilt of not having shared the information sooner, "The night you went off to fight with Angelina. I was showing Hermione the fireworks and . . . we stood very close."

"Did she . . .?"

Fred grimaced. "Yeah, she looked like she could've kissed me too."

"Merlin's saggy y-fronts, why didn't you do it, then?"

"It was most likely an 'in the moment' type of thing, and I swore I'd stay just friends with her, didn't I?"

"You have the restraint of a saint, you do," George proclaimed, looking impressed, though infuriated at the same time.

Fred collapsed onto his arms on the table. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you."

George smiled at his brother's muffled apology. "I don't like that you kept it from me for this long, but I understand."

Fred glanced up. "I think it'll be easier to let go now."

George smiled sadly. "Perhaps." He sighed. "Maybe we ought to focus on work, yeah?"

Fred chuckled. "Yeah, women, who needs them, eh?"

"Exactly! That's the spirit! We have a bloody jokeshop, brother, what else do we need?"

The twins' spirits seemed to lift as they encouraged each other to look at the situation in another light. Just as they toasted their pumpkin juice, the clang from their glasses echoed all around, and everything turned dark.

Half a second later, the smoke cleared and Hermione found herself in the hospital wing.

To her horror she saw Ron laying in one of the beds, his face and bare upper body covered in tentacle marks. And they were fresh ones; not faded like the ones she'd traced with her fingers in their rare moments of tranquillity together.

She swallowed. The marks looked so much worse than she remembered . . .

She was startled out of her thoughts when she heard Mrs. Weasley shrill voice enter the room, accompanied by a gently hushing Mr. Weasley. They had just come in through the door, followed by Fred and George.

Madam Pomfrey emerged from behind a curtained bed which Hermione recognized as her own. She hurried to their side, urging them, much like Mr. Weasley had a second before, to remain calm and quiet.

"My poor boy," said Mrs. Weasley, "Will he be all right, Poppy?"

Madam Pomfrey gave a wan smile. "He won't suffer any lasting damage beyond a few scars. Although, I might have found an unction that could clear those up and with any luck there might not even be any scars."

"Lasting damage?" repeated Mr. Weasley. "Did something else happen to him besides superficial wounds?"

"Young Mr. Weasley was attacked by some creatures which not only inflicted wounds, but also made his brain . . . well, for a lack of a better word; fuzzy. Not to worry," Madam Pomfrey hurried, "he's all right now, and quite clear last time he was up. You may see him, but try not to crowd him."

"Thank you," said Mr. Weasley while his wife was already on her way to their youngest son. Fred and George trailed behind her, looking awfully pale against their magenta coloured robes.

Madam Pomfrey excused herself and headed for her office.

"My poor boy," sobbed Mrs. Weasley, stroking her son's hair. "My poor, brave boy."

"You heard her though, Mum," said George. "He'll be fine. Just a few scars."

"Yeah, and you know, girls like brave blokes with scars," said Fred. "He's going to be quite sought after next year."

Mrs. Weasley wasn't listening to them and just continued stroking Ron's hair. Mr. Weasley strode forward, putting a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Molly, he's alive. That's all that matters."

Mrs. Weasley nodded but still didn't say anything.

Fred and George looked helplessly at each other.

"Before we go back, let's buy out Honeydukes and send him the chocolate," said Fred.

"Probably will finish it all in a day, anyway," said George and they both chuckled quietly.

There was a groan pulling all of their attention to his bed as Ron stirred. "Wha . . . Mum?"

"How are you feeling, dear?" asked Mrs. Weasley. "Do you need for us to call on Madam Pomfrey?"

Ron gave a faint nod.

"We'll go," said Fred, his eyes never leaving his weak looking brother until they were completely out of sight. They got Madam Pomfrey.

"Here you go," she said, having grabbed two vials and was now handing Ron both of them. "One is a Sleeping Draught for when you wish to go to sleep again, and the other is a Pain Relief potion. Afraid the bites might sting still so you should take that one now."

"Yeah," said Ron and downed the entire thing. "Thank you."

"Just don't strain yourself. You need plenty of rest." She was about to turn away and leave again, when Ron raised a weak hand.

"Wait," he said. "How's everyone else? How's Harry, and 'Mione, Ginny, Neville and Luna?"

"Oh, you're so sweet," cried Mrs. Weasley. "Worrying about others."

Madam Pomfrey ignored her. "Mr. Potter is with the Headmaster and I suspect your sister, Mr. Longbottom and Miss Lovegood are resting in their dormitories. Their injuries weren't as severe and so I had to usher them out after healing them."

"Oh, yeah," said Ron, blinking. "I remember they said goodbye . . ." Suddenly, he frowned. "What about 'Mione?"

For the first time, Madam Pomfrey façade broke. It was fast but noticeable. The Weasleys exchanged looks.

"I'm afraid Miss Granger was hit with a very dark curse. It will take some time, and a large amount of potions, but eventually she'll heal."

Hermione winced remembering all the potions she'd had to endure drinking, the weeks she'd spent in pain at the slightest movement near her chest. It had been awful, but she never complained. Harry was mourning Sirius and that was worse than having to down a couple of potions.

"Can I see her?" asked Ron. Hermione noticed that Fred was looking beseechingly at the mediwitch as well.

"You should be resting," said Madam Pomfrey.

"But I—"Ron stopped at the stern look Madam Pomfrey sent him and nodded. She left and the Weasleys were once again alone.

"Well, we should check on Ginny before we leave," said Mr. Weasley. "We're very proud of you, son, but never put your mother and I through this again. Do you hear me?"

It was rare for his father to be scolding so Ron had no choice but to agree.

"Good," Mr. Weasley nodded. "Molly, come now, your daughter needs you too and Ron here will be okay with the boys."

Mrs. Weasley kissed Ron's forehead, earning herself an embarrassed 'Mum!' and then left with her husband to check on their daughter.

As soon as the door closed, Ron turned to his brothers. "Check on Hermione."

The twins looked bewildered.

"I know I can't, but if she was hit by a dark curse I need to know how bad it is."

"Ron, Madam Pomfrey said she'll be fine . . ." started George.

" _Please_."

George sighed. "Fred?"

Fred startled. "Me?"

"One of us'll have to be the look out." George sent Fred a look that told him that George understood how much Fred wanted to check on Hermione too.

Fred answered with a grateful smile.

"All right," he said. "Hang on, little bro', I'll tell you how she is."

"Thank you." Ron visibly relaxed and something close to a guilty expression showed on Fred's face as he strode to check on the only other bed in the hospital wing. Perhaps it was due to the selfish desire to see Hermione for himself and not just for his brother that caused his grief? Whatever it was, it disappeared as soon as he stepped inside the curtained area. With cautious and smooth moves belonging to an experienced rule breaker and midnight stroller, he pulled the curtains aside and slid in. He looked behind him and then turned to look at where Hermione lay on the bed.

It was worse than she remembered.

Her breathing was strained for starters, not severely so, but loud enough to take notice of, and beads of sweat gathered at her forehead. Her upper body, much like Ron's, was bare. Well, mostly. She had a shirt on that had been severed at the stomach to grant easy view and access to the bandages surrounding her ribs. Some sort of ointment covered them and smelled most foul. On the nightstand stood at least ten potions.

"Blimey . . ." said Fred, his voice no louder than a breath. "Granger, you get up to more trouble than I've ever done, you know."

He gave a weak smile, then brought his hand to his face and tried to collect himself before stepping out . . .

"How is she?" asked Ron immediately when they came back.

"She's seen better days," admitted Fred. "Though, I don't think she's beyond healing."

George clapped his younger brother on the shoulder. "See, Ron? She's fine. Now, you should rest and we need to visit Ginny before returning to work, so take that potion of yours and sleep, or Mum'll have a fit."

They left their brother fully asleep and walked out of the infirmary.

"How are you?" asked George.

"Fine, I suppose. I'm glad they're all okay," said Fred. "But Hermione got the worst of it, George, you should have seen her."

"That bad, huh?"

"Worse."

George sighed. He walked alongside his twin in silence until they'd reached the end of the corridor. "People'll be needing laughter now that You-Know-Who's back."

"I expect our business will be thriving," said Fred, without enthusiasm.

"You know that's not what I meant," said George. "Terrible things are about to happen and the best way to stick it to the snake is to show him he can't scare us."

Fred showed signs of having taken those words to heart, the air around him clear of his previous gloom. "Right you are, Gred."

George smiled, then grew serious again, "Speaking of terrible," he said, "I spoke with Dad and we agreed that the last thing Harry needs right now is to face torment from his relatives so . . ."

The memory switched and they were now at King's Cross station.

Harry was walking away with his relatives, smiling for once as he headed for Privet Drive. He waved and eventually disappeared in the crowd.

"I think that went splendid," said Mr. Weasley.

"Yeah, they'll know better than to treat Harry horribly now," said Tonks. "Although, one would think someone should have done this sooner."

Remus gave a nod. "Well, I think that concludes our business. It was very nice to meet you all." And though smiling pleasantly at them, there hung a cloud over the werewolf's head as he departed, Tonks trailing after him with Moody.

"Poor Professor Lupin," said Hermione, both her and the Weasley children waiting until their parents were done discussing what had just happened. Hermione remembered how her parents would later argue with her in the car over involving the muggle authorities. They had all wanted to, but since Hermione knew she better run it by Professor Dumbledore, she decided to do that first. She sent him a letter, trying to be as respectful as she could while simultaneously urging him to get Harry away from his relatives. Apparently others had had the same thought. When she received his reply he told her that the problem had been brought to his attention by the Weasleys years ago, and more recently Moody, Tonks and Remus. But he'd had to tell them the sad news that Harry was to unfortunately stay for his own safety.

This had been a rude awakening for Hermione, and it would be later, during the camping, that she would start questioning Dumbledore's motives even more, finally coming to the conclusion by the end of it that he had been a mere mortal like the rest of them.

"Can't catch a break, poor bloke," agreed Ron, referring to Remus.

"At least he and Harry are somewhat up and about," said Ginny. The group sullenly hummed in agreement. When it appeared their parents were about to finish their talk, Ginny approached Hermione to give her a hug. She immediately stepped back though when the latter gave a tiny hiss in pain.

"So sorry, Hermione," said Ginny. "I should have realized—"

"No, no, it's okay! Just—"She glanced at her parents. "Really, it's okay."

"Well, good to know in advance we can't hug you," joked Fred. He settled for resting a hand on her shoulder and giving a small squeeze. "You take care."

Hermione gave him a polite smile. "You too."

Fred and George walked toward their parents, but not before glimpsing Hermione blush when Ron stepped up to her after them, attempting to grant her a careful hug.

"Saint, you are," mumbled George.

Fred chuckled and threw an arm over his brother's shoulder. "At least it's moving forward. I'm happy for them."

"I take that back," said George, shaking his head, "I doubt you can be a saint if you lie."

* * *

~o0o~

* * *

 **A/N: Hellooooooo, friends!**

 **Oh my god, we're finally done with Year Five! It's been a lot, this one. So many canon moments to take into account when writing this, but all the research was worth it!**

 **Thank you for all your kind words, I was nervous asking you to not send me "Please Update"s but this just shows that my readers are the best! It helped a lot! You're part of this experience too, so to have such a pleasant comment section is truly a blessing. Both for me and the other readers too, I'm sure. You're making it a joy to write, so thank you for that.**

 **Anyway, next chapter I have planned enough that I can tell you that we'll see some more post-war Hogwarts, so I hope you're ready for that!**

 **Hope you enjoyed this chapter!**

 **Until next time!**  
 **/Primrue**

 **P.S. Ginny omitted Hermione's name because as previously mentioned Umbridge was looking through the owls.**


	20. Things To Do

Things to do

* * *

~o0o~

* * *

"—we must, of course, observe that while the formulas might match, we can never know for certain. The surest way . . . "

The rest of Professor Vector's words sounded dim, but Hermione's hand moved effortlessly across the page nonetheless. She had perfected the skill of note-taking years ago, and in this moment it proved very useful. Because while having had an above average rest, Hermione found herself increasingly distracted today. Today . . . and every other day these past few days. Too often her thoughts would drift to muse on small things; like what there was for dinner or if she had handed in her homework in time. It was all she had energy for.

The memories were taking their toll on her, or at least so she suspected; there was no real evidence but her own state. Though she reasoned that observing two incredibly lengthy vials in the span of two weeks couldn't be good, she also argued that she'd undergone the first three vials in less than a week before. So, was it not the number, but the effect they had which determined the influence over the viewers?

There was an elbow to her arm and Hermione was startled out of her thoughts. She glanced to her right.

Malfoy.

She followed his questioning look down to her desk and gathered that she'd stopped taking notes some time ago, after all.

Her lips formed an 'Oh' to which the blond only shook his head.

Soon thereafter class ended, and Hermione and Draco said their goodbyes as they parted for their different tables in the Great Hall; Malfoy, as usual, not inquiring anything about the previous situation. It was kind of nice, Hermione thought, having someone respect her privacy like that—although, there was the likely possibility that he simply didn't care. Nevertheless, she appreciated it.

Though, speaking of privacy . . .

At the Gryffindor table, Ginny had spotted Hermione walking over. She gave a tight smile before resuming tending to her meat pie and Hermione supressed a sigh. The two of them had been awkward around each other ever since Hermione had refused to tell the other witch what was going on. It was a miracle they still talked because it seemed to bother Ginny greatly.

Hermione sat down opposite Ginny, ending up with Neville sitting on her left. She greeted them both and while Ginny merely nodded, Neville smiled kindly at her.

"How was your lesson, Hermione?" he asked.

"It was fine," she said, trying to muster up an equally warm smile. "I did look forward to dinner the entire time, though."

"I know what you mean, my stomach was rumbling well into the first ten minutes of my last class."

They exchanged tiny chuckles.

Hermione had finished piling on some food on her plate, when she noticed Neville glancing between her and Ginny. It seemed their little spat had gained some attention. Not surprising, but not entirely pleasant either. She frowned and struggled for something to break the silence.

"So . . ." Hermione began, "Where's Luna?"

Neville chewed quickly, and after swallowing said, "She's out in the woods."

Hermione frowned. "Again?"

Neville shrugged. "It calms her. Reminds her of before, I suppose; the times she'd visit the Thestrals when she was younger. And . . . she doesn't like walls too much these days."

Hermione nodded empathetically, all too aware of why Luna had grown a strong dislike for the solid stone confines of Hogwarts. They reminded the girl too much of her time imprisoned at Malfoy Manor. Honestly, it surprised Hermione that Luna bothered to ever be inside at all. In the future, she'd probably just live outside, right under the stars.

Once they finished their meal and were walking toward the common room, Hermione's arm was held back by another.

"Go ahead, Neville," said Ginny, waving at him. "Just having a chat with Hermione."

Neville, though shooting an apologetic look at Hermione, was clever enough not to argue with her, and walked away.

Ginny dragged Hermione away to an empty classroom.

"All tight," she said. "We've been dancing around each other for an entire week. Let's get everything out. C'mon."

Hermione pursed her lips. "Do you really want to do this now?"

Ginny nodded energetically. "Yes, yes, let's get it all out."

Hermione took a deep breath. "If you insist."

"I do."

"Well," said Hermione, "While I admit I was sort of in the wrong, I can't help but feel that you were too."

Ginny's eyes widened a fraction. "Excuse me?"

"I'm sorry, but you wanted everything out. It's not a horrible thing that I feel like I'm entitled some privacy."

"Hermione, I know and respect that, but that's not what happ—"

"And you can't expect me to constantly share every little detail with you! We're friends but that doesn't mean you have to know everything that's going on in my life."

"But that's the thing!" shouted Ginny suddenly. "That's the thing— I don't know ANYTHING!"

Hermione blinked at her outburst. "What—"

"People are hiding things from me, Hermione! They always have!"

Now she was really confused. "What are you talking about?"

Her ginger friend was pacing, her steps angry and frustrated, as if years of pent up aggression was making its way out.

"What am I talking about?" she repeated, snorting sarcastically, "What do you think? Everything, everyone! 'Ginny's the youngest', they'd say, acting as if you lot didn't get to know more than me when you were my age. Forgetting that I'd already had Tom Riddle in my mind for a whole year by the time I turned twelve." She growled. "And I was already on edge after meeting George that day in Diagon Alley. Did you see how skinny he was? And not to mention how Harry is still acting like everything's fine, but I know he isn't. How could he be? Neither of them will talk to me, and I can't stand it!"

Hermione waited as Ginny kicked the chairs and punched the desks.

"And now . . ." Ginny rubbed her knuckles as she calmed down, "Now you're doing it too."

She turned and looked Hermione straight in the eyes, and the latter was shocked to see the tears glistening on the other girl's cheek. It wasn't the first time Hermione saw Ginny cry, but the instances were so far between one another that it always came as a surprise.

Hermione swallowed, feeling her own eyes sting. "Ginny—"

Ginny shook her head, wiping at her eyes and sniffing, "I'm sorry, I know I'm being unfair. And I'm sorry if I took it out on you, but you've always been honest with me. So, please, try to understand."

"I do understand, but," Hermione sighed, "Ginny, am I not allowed one private thing in my life? I tell you everything else . . . Well, eventually I do. And I will. But these memories I watched? They are private."

Ginny frowned, but nodded.

"I hope you don't think I'm a bad friend, I was just being selfish. I'm sorry."

Hermione smiled. "You've said that already."

Ginny scoffed. "Well, it's true." She wiped at her eyes again. "Oh Merlin, crying's awful."

Now it was Hermione's turn to scoff. "Tell me about it. I feel like all I ever do is cry nowadays."

Ginny looked at her. "You did it after you spoke with George."

Hermione didn't meet her eyes, but nodded. "He said some things that hurt. He was rather vicious."

Ginny frowned again, probably going over all the things her brother could have said to make Hermione take offense.

"Don't worry," Hermione hurried. "I don't want to make a fuss, and he is going through something terrible—"

"That's true, but it's still not an excuse. I lost a brother too, but George is behaving like he's the only one who has a right to grieve and behave like a bastard."

"Well, it's different because it was his twin," said Hermione weakly.

"Don't make excuses for him, Hermione," said Ginny. "We all have been doing it for months now, and it's apparently not working. Angelina is the only one being tough on him, and consequently she's the only one who he doesn't treat horribly." She folded her arms and caught her breath.

Hermione bit her lip. "Are we all right then?"

Ginny blinked. "Of course we are."

Hermione smiled. Then she looked at Ginny's hands. "Do you want me to heal that?"

Ginny glanced down. "No, leave it. It'll heal."

The girls looked at each other again, and it seemed as if they simultaneously thought of the same thing.

They would heal.

o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

"Oh, go, Ginny! Get that Quaffle! Er . . . swerve that broom!"

There was laughter next to Hermione as she stood and attempted to cheer Ginny on during practice. It was early still, right before lunch on the weekend, but Hermione had been determined to try to mend her friendship with Ginny. Not that it needed much mending, she and Ginny were fine now, but still . . .

"I think you're only distracting her, Hermione," said Neville between laughs.

Hermione blushed and sat down again. "I'm only trying to show support."

"I think she's just happy you're here," chimed Luna next to Neville. "She's smiling more now that you've made up, too."

Again, Hermione's cheeks heated out of embarrassment. Neville appeared a bit uncomfortable as well. Luna, however, took no notice and redirected her attention back to her friend doing drills with the rest of the team.

"Well done, Dean!" shouted Seamus and applauded.

Luna smiled. "Yes, he's doing very well. Oh no, there goes Demelza . . ."

Just as Dean had got hold of the Quaffle, it was taken by Demelza Robins. She smiled back at Dean before zooming forward toward the goal posts. Without a Keeper the rest of Dean's team could only watch as Demelza threw the Quaffle to Ginny—who upon seeing her team mate obtain the ball, had hurried over to the goal—and in expert moves even Hermione found impressive, scored them another point.

Seamus groaned. "So close."

Hermione glanced at her watch. "If we don't want to starve, we should hurry back to the castle."

"Okay, team!" shouted Ginny from her broom just then. "Good work! We'll practice more tonight, but this time with a Keeper. I want everyone here before dinner."

"Come on, Ginny," said Dean, "we just practiced, surely we don't have to go again the same day?"

"Do you want the cup or not?" asked Ginny, her voice like steel. There was no point arguing, and her ex-boyfriend simply held his hands up in defeat. As did the rest of the team.

"You might be a bit too harsh on them," suggested Neville after Ginny emerged from the changing room a couple of minutes later. "After all, two practices in one day . . ."

Ginny shook her head. "They need it. We have our match against Slytherin on Monday, and though Malfoy is rumoured not to be there, their replacement, I've heard, is almost as good. We need to win that cup, Neville. _I_ need to win that cup."

They all knew of Ginny's dream to play for a professional Quidditch team and she'd expressed her worry to them before that having been named Captain might not be enough. There was a lot pending on these games and though Hermione didn't understand Quidditch, she understood having your future be at stake. Hermione didn't have too much trouble in school anymore, having gained a lot of knowledge and perspective preparing for the war against Voldemort, but she did feel pressure. Regardless of hero status, she was a Muggle-born. And that still came with its predicaments and disadvantages. Therefore, gaining a good grade was not the same as an excellent grade, and could prove to be the difference in her case.

If everything went well, she'd try to change that.

After lunch, Hermione headed up alone to her dormitory to retrieve a book, while the others waited down by the fire. She was rummaging through her trunk when she remembered that the book she was after most likely was in her beaded bag. Suddenly, her stomach felt queasy.

She didn't want to see the rest of the memories just yet. She'd barely had enough sleep as it was, but also, a part of her dreaded the end more and more. When she ran out of memories what would she do?

"Ginny sent for me to fetch you," said Parvati.

Hermione startled and immediately reached for her wand. Realizing what she'd done, Hermione blushed, but to her surprise the other girl just raised an eyebrow.

"You do that too?" Parvati asked.

Hermione slowly lowered her hand, focusing on arranging her trunk instead and not looking Parvati in the eye. "Yes."

Parvati gave a nod.

Hermione got the book and the two of them climbed down. They entered the almost empty common room in silence and sat at opposite ends of the sofa, Ginny and Luna between them. Luna had a comforting hand on Ginny's shoulder.

Hermione looked to Neville who sat in the armchair. "What—"Before she finished, he answered with a nod to the letter in Ginny's hand.

"It's from Ron," said Ginny, looking as if she wasn't sure what to feel. "He says—well, he rambles a lot but the gist of it is that he's concerned for Harry and George. He says they seem a bit . . . weird."

"Weird?" asked Hermione.

"Here." Ginny handed Hermione the letter.

Hermione's chest warmed a little reading Ron's familiar scrawl, but the content quickly diminished that feeling.

'Ginny,

What the hell happened while I was gone? George has been acting like a proper arse since you guys visited him. His fuse goes for every little thing. I had to finally send him to the apartment yesterday, because he was scaring some of the customers. And I've barely had time to visit Harry lately, what with the work schedule I have and the fact that George is behaving like he is, making me have to take care of some of his work too and I dunno . . . In Harry's letters he says he's fine, but he's off work for the first time in ages and he's all alone in that depressing house of his. I told Mum to invite him over, but I don't know if he'll even go. I'm going to visit him tomorrow to see how he is, but I figured I'd tell you in case you caught up on something when you saw him last. Which goes for George as well, by the way.

Hope everything's okay with you and everyone. Tell them hello for me.

Ron'

Hermione read those last lines again. He'd said everyone. He hadn't said 'everyone, but not Hermione', or anything like that. Perhaps he'd started to come around.

"I don't think there's much to do, Ginny," said Hermione after reading through the letter again. "Ron says George is temperamental but we can hardly change that, and he's checking in on Harry tomorrow. We should probably just wait until he does and then ask him what he thinks."

Ginny looked miserable, but nodded. "You're right. I just feel useless. Ron's out there taking care of everyone and I . . ."

"You're here with us," said Luna brightly.

"Yes," said Hermione, not quite sure what Luna was getting at. "Ron is out there but you're here . . . with us, and that's okay."

"That was the worst pep-talk I've heard," said Parvati, not unkindly. "Look, Ginny, it sounds like George and Harry are going through some stuff and though it might be hard to hear I don't think it's something you personally can fix. Only George will manage to make George go through his grieving." Parvati's eyes turned pained for a second, no doubt remembering Lavender. "And like Hermione said, Ron is checking in on Harry tomorrow. You going over isn't going to change much unless Harry specifically asks for you."

"Thanks," said Ginny. Then she turned to the rest of her friends. "And thank you. It's just a bit much at the moment, with everything going on and then there's the match on top of it . . ."

"Perhaps focus on the match, yeah?" said Neville. "If you have something to do it'll be easier to deal. I find that whenever I'm the Greenhouse working with the plants it takes my mind off of stuff and I can relax."

"I'm sure that's not the only thing taking your mind off of things in Greenhouse," added Ginny cheekily, her spirit having returned.

Neville turned red.

"Ah, yes, doesn't Hannah Abbott spend a lot of time there, as well?" asked Parvati, though judging by the glint in her eyes she knew the answer already.

"We're just friends," said Neville.

"And whose fault is that?" asked Ginny. "Honestly, you two are slower than slow."

They chuckled and spent half an hour loudly planning on how to best set the two love-birds up, much to the boy's discomfort. When that settled down, Hermione read her book while the rest of them chatted away before leaving to watch or join practice. Being all out of Quidditch energy for one day, Hermione politely declined their offer to have her with them, instead opting for continuing her read. When feeling her eyelids start to feel heavy she looked up and saw that it was late, the sun already setting. She'd been reading for quite some time now.

She went upstairs to leave her book, ready to leave for dinner, when she thought back on the other day, to when she'd missed to properly write down her notes. She had planned on spending the whole day tomorrow studying, so she'd need a good night's sleep if she didn't want a repeat of that dazed state.

"You've got to be kidding," Hermione muttered.

She had pulled her trunk open and given a tiny displeased growl when she saw that her stock of 'Sleeping Draught' was out.

"How?" she then asked out loud. She'd always kept her supply fully stocked, not to mention the fact that she was very careful of getting addicted to it so she rarely used it anyway. Perhaps she'd been more distracted this past few weeks than she previously thought . . . Hermione dreaded going to Madam Pomfrey, but she knew she'd have to. She couldn't stand sleeping without knowing it would be available in case she needed it during the night.

Also, she knew who'd be resting in a hospital bed today . . .

If she were to make it through the night, she would need to get one now, before people were up and about on their way to dinner. Making up her mind, Hermione hastily checked her appearance; though not bothering to fix her hair or wash her face, because while she didn't want to be perceived as an addict by Madam Pomfrey, she knew that getting too cleaned up would only make the woman suspicious. She was halfway out the door to her and Paravati's room when Hermione decided, at the last minute, to bring a 'Honeydukes' chocolate bar with her.

She made it to the Hospital Wing without a hassle and entered. As suspected, the bed furthest away was shielded with curtains. She sighed.

Madam Pomfrey hurried out of her office at the sound of the opening door.

"Miss Granger? What on earth are you doing here? Why aren't you at dinner?"

"I apologize, Madam Pomfrey," said Hermione. "It's just that my private supply of 'Sleeping Draught' ran out and I haven't got the time to brew more before tonight. I have nightmares sometimes, you see. So I wondered—"

"You wondered if I'd grant you some?" Madam Pomfrey finished for her, raising an eyebrow in the process.

"Yes, Madam," said Hermione, feeling slightly worried at the stare the mediwitch was giving her.

"Other students have been pestering me for the potion. They get addicted, unfortunately. Not that I blame them, the horrible things they've gone through . . ." She turned to Hermione. "I won't deny you the right for a peaceful sleep, but know that I have my limits, for your own sake, Miss Granger."

"Oh, I promise I won't make a habit of this," said Hermione. "It's just that I feel better knowing I have some just in case."

Madam Pomfrey nodded and gave a kind smile. "I understand. I'll have a look—"

Suddenly, the door burst open.

"Madam! Come quick! Demelza Robins has taken a Bludger to her head during practice, no one knows what happened, but—"

Madam Pomfrey sighed. "Did she sprout strange animal body parts?"

Seamus Finnigan frowned. "Yes, but how did you know?"

"Someone's been hexing the Quidditch teams," she fumed. "Thought they'd stopped this nonsense after O'Malley grew gills and couldn't breathe until they put his head in a bowl of water. Wait here, Miss Granger, I'll be back shortly," said Madam Pomfrey.

"Er, sure," said Hermione.

The door closed behind them and Hermione looked around. There was no one here, so she supposed it was safe.

She walked timidly and approached the curtained bed. She called out, quietly, "Hey, it's me, do you mind if I come in?"

There was a pause.

"Like I could stop you either way," that familiar voice drawled finally.

Hermione smiled, taking that as a yes, and pushed the white separator aside. Stepping behind it she made sure to close it properly, so there wasn't any way people could sneak a peek.

"Brought you some chocolate," said Hermione and sat down in the chair by the bed.

"You're not expecting a thank you, are you?" said Draco Malfoy, looking uneasy.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Never." She handed him the chocolate and watched in relief as he unwrapped it. Sometimes he would feel so bad he couldn't even bring himself to sit up.

"You know I'm perfectly capable of purchasing my own chocolate, don't you," he continued, breaking off a generous piece for himself.

"Yes, but that would defeat the purpose, wouldn't it?"

"The purpose?"

"Of being nice."

Malfoy scoffed.

"People can be nice without ulterior motives, Malfoy." Hermione paused. "Just ask Astoria."

At this, Malfoy's pale face got some colour. "What do you know?"

Hermione shrugged. "Oh nothing. I just might have overheard something about arranged pureblood marriages and when researching it, come across an interesting announcement from several years ago, mentioning—"

"All right, I understand. Please stop talking, will you. Your shrill voice makes my ears hurt."

"Given your current state I'm going to ignore that, for my voice is most certainly not shrill . . ." She looked at him. "Have you told her?"

"Have I told seventeen year old Astoria Greengrass that her fiancé turns into a monster every month?"

Hermione nodded, suddenly nervous. How horrible would it be if the person he was arranged to spend the rest of his life with hated what he was?

When Draco simply smirked, Hermione gaped. "She knows?"

"Of course she does, she's brilliant, figured it out on her own."

Hermione smiled. "By the look on your smitten face, I take it she's all right with it then?"

Malfoy actually blushed.

"She's not thrilled, but that's mostly because of what Fenrir did to me . . . why am I talking to you about this?"

Hermione grinned. "Because, believe it or not, I think we're now what people call 'friends'."

"You take that back, Granger."

"I wouldn't be making threats when recovering from the full moon, Draco."

"First name basis? Laying it on a bit thick, aren't you?"

Hermione laughed. "I'm leaving, don't worry. See you in class next week."

The pureblood gave a weak wave and made himself comfortable on the bed.

Hermione closed the curtains and walked to the entrance, waiting for Madam Pomfrey to return. What had happened to Draco Malfoy was unfair, but she tried to do what she could to help. However, as Hermione had come to see with so many things lately, there wasn't much she could do. Yet.

She thought back on her time on Shell Cottage, sitting with Harry, vowing to right the wrongs of the wizarding world, creating a fairer place for all magical beings. And while Remus would never get to enjoy such a world—Hermione's heart broke a little at that thought—she would be damned if she wouldn't try to prevent others from having to suffer the way he had done.

Hermione gave a small smile.

Even if that included Draco Malfoy.

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 **A/N: Hello!**

 **Sorry for taking so long, but it's insane how much planning I had left! I wasn't even sure what to really include here…Also, school started!**

 **Anyway, I love reading your reviews, they remain as lovely as ever and fill me so much happiness! I hope you're all doing well and that you enjoyed this chapter!**

 **Until next time!**  
 **/Primrue**


	21. New Information

New Information

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Madam Pomfrey arrived back at the Hospital Wing, muttering under her breath about foolish pranks, and escorting an uncomfortable looking Demelza Robins. The Chaser looked up from the stretcher levitating next to Madam Pomfrey and met Hermione's eyes; her silent sigh of exasperation telling Hermione that she was fine but that Madam Pomfrey had been fussing like this for quite some time. The two of them passed and went to settle Demelza in a hospital bed.

"Miss Granger."

Hermione turned and noticed Professor McGonagall enter the room. The Headmistress was wearing her favourite, emerald robes and her hair was pinned in its usual bun, yet there had been a change in the woman since the war; a weary expression hidden behind layers of other emotions, but still there if you looked. And Hermione looked. She saw. The sympathy for the woman who'd fought in two wars and seen generations of her children fall in battle was great. Hermione didn't wish that on anyone. Luckily, Minerva McGonagall was strong and unbending; her will to live on a true inspiration for many.

"Professor McGonagall," Hermione responded. The other woman approached and Hermione asked respectfully what she wanted.

"No doubt you witnessed what happened to poor Miss Robins," said Professor McGonagall. "She is not the first to be put under such a cruel spell nor do I believe she'll be the last, unless we put a stop to these pranks once and for all. If you and the other Prefects would join me for a brief meeting in my office after dinner tonight, perhaps we can find whomever it is responsible, or at the very least keep everyone informed and on the look-out."

"Sounds very good, Professor," said Hermione.

Professor McGonagall nodded. "I will see you later then, Miss Granger."

Hermione watched as she departed— most likely to inform the other Prefects of the meeting—and waited a while longer before Madam Pomfrey came to her side and granted her a vial of 'Sleeping Draught'; the Mediwitch not letting her leave until she was assured once more that Hermione wouldn't take more than necessary. Hermione then departed to dinner, eager to meet up with her friends and hear about what had happened during practice (in terms of development in their techniques and increased chances of winning and not necessarily about the sport itself). Hopefully Ginny would feel better than before, despite what had happened to Demelza. When Hermione entered the Great Hall, however, it would appear that she would have no such luck.

"Bloody bastards!" Ginny cut aggressively into her roast, the impact threatening to split the plate in two.

"Ease up a bit, Gin," urged Dean who was passing by with Seamus. "Demelza's fine and will be back from the Hospital Wing tomorrow."

Ginny pointed her fork at him. "Someone's sabotaging the teams and you don't care?"

"'Course I care, but let's just be thankful it wasn't worse. You getting all worked up isn't going to solve anything."

"Worked up? You—" Ginny stopped as she noticed Hermione enter for the first time. "No matter, let's talk about this later."

Everyone else nearby at the Gryffindor table looked relieved, not immune to the tension that still followed the ex-couple whenever they disagreed. Seamus pulled Dean with him further along the table and Ginny made room for Hermione to sit down between her and Neville. "Where have you been?"

"Er, Hospital Wing."

"Draco Malfoy is in the Hospital Wing, isn't he?" asked Luna who sat at on the other side, scaring Hermione—not for the first time— with her knowledge. No one was supposed to know about Malfoy's affliction, yet here was Luna blurting out something that would draw attention to the Slytherin. The worst part was that she never even seemed aware of the impact her words had.

"Actually, Professor McGonagall—"

"Oh, Hermione, you've got to be careful," interrupted Ginny.

Hermione stopped her explanation of what Professor McGonagall had instructed her to do and knitted her eyebrows at her friend. "Careful?"

Ginny waved her fork with a piece of roast and potato on it. "You sneaking off to meet the ferret while he's sick might spur some nasty rumors. D'you know what they're saying about us all?"

"No," answered Hermione, thankful that Ginny was focusing on the gossip part rather than the reason why Malfoy was in the hospital in the first place. "I stopped reading that garbage a long time ago."

"Me too," said Neville.

"Don't you two know that you should keep an eye on the enemy?" asked Ginny, sounding like she had been tasked explaining things to children. Part of Hermione wondered if perhaps she'd had a bit of influence on the other witch just like Ginny'd had on Hermione herself. It made her both glad and concerned.

"Anyway," Ginny continued, "I was mostly joking, but still—the things they say in those papers . . . Did you know that I'm allegedly carrying Blaise Zabini's lovechild?"

Hermione and Neville snorted into their pumpkin juice, while Luna smiled and mumbled something about how that would make the Nargles very happy.

"Honestly, as amusing as some of those things sound," said Hermione, "Shouldn't we say something? Stop them?"

"What do you mean?" asked Ginny.

"Well, we're fine now, but what if these things result in something horrible? I'm surprised you haven't gotten hate-mail, like I did during the tournament."

"I remember that, that was awful," said Neville. Luna nodded in agreement.

"I think you're right, Hermione, but I should be fine," said Ginny. "Mum and Dad helped set up a thing where my mail has to go through a safety check before being delivered. Being the Chosen ones girlfriend isn't without its risks."

"You never told me this," said Hermione, frowning.

Ginny shrugged.

"I think Gran did the same for me," said Neville.

"Daddy's been very protective since the war," said Luna.

Hermione groaned. "So apparently this has always been a possible thing? And no one thought to tell me this before I got my hands mutilated years ago?"

"It goes through our parents," said Ginny, "and yours are Muggles so it might not be possible for you to do it the same way. I could ask Bill to arrange something for you if you'd like?"

The thought of not having to fear her own mail any longer was a comforting thought, and Bill was a professional Curse Breaker . . .

"That would be great."

The rest of dinner proceeded with small talk and sticking to light-hearted subjects, trying to distract Ginny from thinking about Quidditch again. Luna provided plenty of subjects, seeming to have realised what was going on pretty quickly. While she spun tales Humperdingers and Whizzy Whazbees (Hermione assumed that's what they were called, she sort of tuned out after a couple of minutes) Ginny's spirits seemed to lift. Neville was caught by the others glancing at the Hufflepuff table at times, but none of the girls said anything, feeling generous today. Hermione, meanwhile, reminded herself of the appointment set with Professor McGonagall. She searched the room for the other Prefects, but oddly enough she couldn't find them. Or perhaps she just didn't want to. Whatever the case, Hermione was soon excusing herself from the others and making her way up to the Headmistress' office.

"Wizard Chess."

The gargoyle moved to the side and allowed Hermione entry. She climbed up the stairs expecting to be met by some other Prefect but was surprised to find that she was the first one there. Not seeing the point in coming back later, she strolled around looking at the various things kept in the office. There weren't as many as Professor Dumbledore had kept during his time as Headmaster, but it was interesting regardless. Her steps paused in front of a cabinet.

 _Tom Riddle . . . Tom Riddle . . . Tom Riddle . . ._

"I asked Minerva to let those be."

Hermione jumped and searched for the source of the voice that had just spoken. She found two blue eyes twinkle at her, a kind smile accompanying them. "Professor Dumbledore."

"Good evening, Miss Granger. It's been a long time, I hope you're doing well."

"I'm fine," she said, aware that some bitterness had seeped through her statement. Despite the high regard she'd always held her old Headmaster in, she couldn't help but feel miffed about his question. He'd sent them out to war, and now he was asking her if she was doing well?

A brief flicker of comprehension passed behind those half-moon glasses and Hermione knew the old wizard understood, as his expression then turned a bit sorrowful.

Good.

There was a snort to Professor Dumbledore's left.

"At least you're still alive, Granger," Professor Snape spat.

"Now, now, Severus," Professor Dumbledore chided. As the greasy haired wizard folded his arms and went back to sleep, Professor Dumbledore returned his attention to Hermione. "You mustn't pay attention to Severus at the moment. He's been ever so grumpy the past couple of days."

Hermione didn't say anything.

Professor Dumbledore tilted his head slightly more to the right. "If you don't mind me saying, I find it curious that out of all things residing in this office, you would find interest in the vials."

Hermione swallowed; her defiant stance wavering for a moment. How could the wizard still emit the air of an all-knowing being when he was a portrait, for Merlin's sake?

Professor Dumbledore smiled. "Remember, Miss Granger; our memories help define us and are a big part of who we are."

"Are you saying I shouldn't forget what happened during the war?" Hermione asked, but it was too late because Professor Dumbledore had fallen asleep.

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The meeting seemed to drag on forever and Hermione found it difficult to pay attention; the back of her mind still going over Professor Dumbledore's words. The fact that he was in the room didn't help in the least— his presence too big to ignore— in spite of the portrait being asleep. She wanted to take it down and shake it until he answered in a less ambiguous manner.

"Hermione," said Hannah Abbott, "what do you think?"

The brunette blinked. "I think it sounds great."

"All right, then we'll put the Quidditch gear under surveillance before each practice and if that leads nowhere we'll ask for permission to inspect the dorms."

"I still think it's a waste of energy; there wouldn't be anything to find!" argued Anthony Goldstein.

"Not necessarily true, since there might be some parchment showing the instructions of the enchantment in the rooms," said Ernest Macmillan.

"Yes, but isn't the chance pretty small?" asked a Slytherin Prefect whose name Hermione didn't know. It was one of the younger ones.

"It's better than nothing," said Ernest.

"Back off, Macmillan," said Pansy Parkinson, speaking for the first time since the meeting started.

"Don't tell me what to do, Parkinson!"

"Enough!" Professor McGonagall looked over her desk to all the present Prefects along with the Head Boy and Head Girl. "You have all brought forward excellent points and ideas and I will take them all into consideration. Now, I'll discuss the rest with the Head of Houses tomorrow and we'll alert you to any decision made regarding this matter. In the meantime I ask you to keep an eye out for suspicious activity near the Quidditch gear and pitch. Thank you, you are dismissed."

A bit disgruntled over the abrupt dismissal they walked down the staircase, Hermione looking over her shoulder one last time at Professor Dumbledore's portrait. She thought she might have seen him look back but she was out of the office too quick to know.

"Hey, Hermione!" said Hannah, walking up to her along the corridor.

"Hello, Hannah."

The Hufflepuff girl slowed down as she caught up and matched her pace. "You don't happen to know where Neville is, do you? He wasn't at the meeting."

Hermione slapped her forehead. "Oh, I'm so sorry, I forgot to tell you; Neville couldn't make it to the meeting, he's helping Professor Sprout with something."

Hannah smiled at Hermione, both in amusement over the forehead-slapping and also with fondness over Neville. "Of course he is. I swear he spends more time in the greenhouses than the actual castle. Too bad though that he missed this meeting, though I suppose he wouldn't have if it wasn't important."

Hermione hummed in agreement. Neville took his responsibility very seriously and with Ron gone it had only made sense for it to be the Longbottom heir to be the other Eight Year Prefect. She recalled with a twitch of her lips what had happened right before school had started again. When the owl had come bearing the badges. Neville having been made Prefect had chocked no one but Neville. He'd stared at the 'P' for minutes before Ginny had yanked it out of his hand and threatened to throw it away if he didn't stop gaping. Neville had stopped.

Hermione said goodbye to Hannah and the other Hufflepuffs as they descended to their common room; the Ravenclaws having already departed for their tower a long time ago. She didn't know what to say to the Slytherins, but any thought of waving the small ones goodbye was quickly diminished by Pansy Parkinson's stare. Pansy's dark hair flew as she turned back to the others—no longer looking at Hermione, but focusing on the younger Slytherin Prefects— and her robes billowed around her before disappearing down the stairs out of view.

Even though Hermione harbored no warm feelings for the other witch, she couldn't deny that the protectiveness Pansy showed for her Housemates was reassuring. Perhaps there was a heart there deep down, lurking under the layers of which had been responsible for taunting Hermione all those years and reasons which had made her attempt to sell out Hermione's best friend.

 _She'd been scared . . . We all were so scared . . ._

Hermione wouldn't forgive Pansy for her actions anytime soon, but she hoped they could attempt to be civil in the future at least.

"Hermione!" Neville appeared from behind the portrait hole as soon as she entered. "What happened at the meeting?"

They walked together to the sofa by the fire and Hermione settled down with an exhausted huff while Neville remained standing.

"What happened to you?" she asked instead of answering his previous question. The boy was covered from head to toe in dirt.

"Ah, it's nothing, just repotted some things." At her frown he continued, "That wasn't the only thing Professor Sprout asked me, if that's what you're thinking. She er . . ."

Hermione waved her wand and vanished the dirt as best she could from Neville so he could sit down.

"Thanks."

"So what did Professor Sprout want?"

Neville appeared caught between being terrified and ecstatic at the same time. "She . . . she's asked me to return to Hogwarts after graduation."

"Oh. _Oh_."

Neville grinned. "She wants me to take over after she retires in a few years, so I'll be training and teaching a little under her guidance following the summer."

"Neville that's incredible!" Hermione hugged him tight. He in turn patted her awkwardly on the back until she let go.

After a minor celebrating (Neville didn't want to tell anyone quite yet so it was mostly just the eight years sending him congratulations and no more) and informing Neville on the happenings of the meeting in the Headmistress' office, Hermione retreated from the Gryffindor common, having already decided upon arriving back at the tower that she needed the sleep. She settled the 'Sleeping Draught' on her nightstand and got ready for bed.

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The next day Hermione woke up feeling rested but thoughtful. The sun was still rising when she pulled her curtain aside, rubbing her tired eyes, and did her daily routine of removing silencing charms around her bed. Though the draught was left untouched on her nightstand—meaning she'd had a well enough sleep— something just didn't sit right with her. It wasn't until she was seated at the breakfast table that she first suspected why.

Vials.

Dumbledore had spoken about the vials. He must have. He'd spoken about memories but it had been in relation to the vials on Tom Riddle, hadn't it? So was there more to memories and vials than Hermione thought?

It was worth checking out and if the issue kept pestering her mind when she really should be focusing on her N.E.W.T.s she'd take her own advice and just shake the portrait until it revealed what it had meant. Possible expulsion be damned. Once in the library where she had planned on spending her Sunday anyway, Hermione set aside her study materials to browse for a moment in the small section devoted to memory charms and the like. She shuddered a little reading the titles for books on memory removal charms, recalling that that's where she had found the one used on her parents. . .

 _Memory restoring . . . Memory altering . . . Memory creating . . . Memory preserving!_

Finally reaching the arm-full of books concerning Pensieves and memory vials, Hermione scanned for something that might pertain to what Dumbledore had spoken the day before, but it didn't take long to realise that the old wizard was no less cryptic in death than he'd been in life.

"Bugger," Hermione muttered, having gone through several theories in her mind already. A part of her had hoped . . . but no, there was no way to bring the dead back. No way.

An enormous and heavy sigh left her lips and Hermione could feel the weight on her shoulders simply increase, rather than leave her as the air left. Her eyes started to burn and she feared tears wouldn't be far behind. _This is what happens when you get your hopes up_ , she told herself. _Stupid_.

She viciously swiped under her eyes, blinking for all she was worth and attempted to steady the rampaging current that was her emotions. So much hurt. So much pain. She didn't want it. She didn't need it. She didn't want to think about it.

And then, as if her prayers were about to be answered, a light shone in through the wall of the library. The light stopped in front of Hermione and she rose hastily, not caring about the brief wobble it created, but stood mesmerized by the light. This light. A light she'd thought she might never get to see again.

It had been a long time since she'd seen the patronus, but she'd know it anywhere. The Jack Russel terrier bounced on the spot for a while before settling in proud manner, as if it knew that the message it was about to present was important. The thought of being happy Ron had sent her a message didn't even enter her mind, because as was the case anytime someone sent a patronus her way, her first thoughts were inevitably: What happened? Was anyone hurt?

The words spoken next only reaffirmed her fears.

" _Hermione—Harry needs you—come to Grimmauld Place now."_

* * *

~o0o~

* * *

 **A/N: Hello, my dear readers! I hope you're doing good! I've been fueled by your ever so lovely reviews as always and HOLY CRAP WE PASSED 300? THANK YOU! YOU'RE THE BEST!**

 **And so many cameos in this chapter, it's insane! We've got other students and McGonagall and Dumbledore! Wow!**

 **Hope you enjoyed this chapter!**

 **Until next time!**  
 **/Primrue**


	22. Pain and Closure, part 1

Pain and Closure, part 1

* * *

~o0o~

* * *

Hermione wasted no time. She gathered her things in a flash and hurried out of the library. Madam Pince thankfully never saw her sprint through the shelves, but a handful of people jumped out of her way, startled, though no one attempted to stop her and ask where she was going until she was right by the gate.

Almost slipping on the snow, Hagrid stumbled over to her faster than she had predicted the tall half-giant could.

"Hermione!" he said, "What's yer rush? Where yer headed?"

"I can't speak now, Hagrid, I'm sorry but I've got to go."

"I'm not supposed to let students out, you know tha'," Hagrid reminded her with a concerned frown.

"Please, Hagrid, you know I wouldn't go unless it was an emergency," said Hermione. "It's Ron. He says he needs my help." She purposefully omitted the fact that it was for Harry.

"Ron?"

"Yes! So please, I'll only be gone for a moment," she continued.

"Well, all righ'," said Hagrid, having switched to looking amused— too amused, she thought, given the fact that she'd just stated Ron needed her help. "Just be back before dark, will yer? And give Ron my best."

Relieved, Hermione gave him a swift hug. "I will! Thank you, Hagrid!" Hermione leaped out the gates in a flash, leaving the giant waving behind her, and disapparated to Grimmauld Place. She burst through the door as soon as she landed on the front steps.

Grimmauld Place had never been Hermione's favourite place, but now that Harry had had it be refurnished the nasty house oozing of centuries old prejudice and malice almost looked homey. Stepping onto the new doormat welcoming her in, she closed the door behind her and stepped cautiously through the rooms. Where was everyone?

Hermione's eyes snapped upwards as suddenly there was a wail piercing through the walls.

 _I thought they'd gotten rid of old Walburga…?_

Another moment passed before Hermione realised that the noises upstairs were not ones made by the portrait of the bigoted blood purist Black matriarch, but rather, the ones of a boy. A very pained boy.

 _Harry!_

Hermione sprinted up the steps two at a time, quickly earning a stitch in her side due to her rather unexercised muscles, but she couldn't care less.

Arriving at the second floor the cries were louder and she heard crashing; things smashed against a wall.

"—you don't understand! No one understands!"

"Harry, mate, put that down. Let's talk about this—"

"NO! YOU DON'T GET IT! NO ONE DOES! LEAVE ME ALONE!"

Ron stumbled out of a door, barely dodging a vase flying above his head. The vase shattered into a million pieces, some of which skidded across the floor to Hermione's feet.

"GET A GRIP, MATE! CALM DOWN!" Ron shouted from the hallway. He was too busy to notice Hermione standing a few paces away watching the scene in both horror and confusion.

It was quiet now, but before either Hermione or Ron could interpret that as a good sign, they could hear Harry start rambling from inside the room, "They're gone, they're gone, they're gone—"

"Harry, bloody hell . . ."

Hermione pressed her lips together tightly, stepping forward, and laid a hand on Ron's shoulder. He flinched at the contact but when his mind registered who it was he looked extremely relieved to have her there. "'Mione—"

After so many weeks the nickname made her heart jump. She'd missed him— her friend—much more than she'd realised. But this was not a time for awkward 'we broke up and now have to figure out how this works'-talk. Their best friend needed their help.

" _I_ was gone— I was . . . I was . . . I was . . . I was—"

Hermione gulped and pulled Ron from the room's entrance back to the staircase where she'd come from; she couldn't focus while hearing Harry's anguished ramblings.

"What happened?" she asked.

Ron took a deep breath, but his voice shook when he spoke next, "I— I have no idea. We were chatting along fine when he suddenly broke down and started throwing stuff. Been talking about the war, the people we lost and how he died and how it was all his fault . . . Hermione, I've never seen him like this. Not even during fifth year. I had no clue how to calm him down, so I . . ."

Hermione met his stare, understanding. He'd done what he always did when he needed help: he turned to her.

"I'll see what I can do," she said.

Ron seemed to take comfort in her words and let her go in to face Harry.

"—smiling, smiling, smiling, smiling, smiling—"

A chill traveled along Hermione's spine. Whoever this person was, he did not sound like her best friend.

It only got worse when she crossed the room and saw him rocking back and forth on the floor, his knees up to his stomach. He had several small wounds on his hands and the objects scattered around him gave Hermione a clue as to what had inflicted the injuries. There were broken piles of wood, splinter and glass lying everywhere. The curtains were ripped and so were all the pillows.

"H—Harry?" she began tentatively as she squatted, facing him.

"—sleeping, sleeping, sleeping, sleeping, sleeping, sleeping—", Harry said, his eyes blank.

Hermione had no idea what to do. She said his name again, firmer this time. Still no response.

"Harry," she said again, this time placing her hand on top of his.

He jolted.

His green eyes seemed to recognize her and they were frantically running across her face.

"You," he said. "I couldn't protect you."

She waited for him to continue. Maybe it would help for him to talk.

"You were screaming, screaming so loudly, and I tried, but I couldn't and then she—" he looked at her arm now.

"That wasn't your fault," Hermione said, suddenly understanding what he was referring to. "What that woman did to me was not your fault."

Somehow this only made him snap again.

"SHUT UP! YOU DON'T KNOW! You can't tell me it wasn't my fault!

"Harry! It wasn't your—"

"SHUTUPSHUTUPSHUTUPSHUTUPSHUTUP-"

"Harry! Listen—"

He was rocking back and forth again, clutching his hands on his ears.

Hermione slowly backed away, tears in her eyes. She'd felt helpless before, but never like this. She had no idea how to console her friend.

Harry abandoned the rocking and began clawing at the floor, throwing things within his reach, mostly pieces of glass, causing his fingers to bleed. Hermione healed them silently, careful to not make him see her wand. Who knew what he would do with those Auror reflexes of his if he caught her pointing a wand at him? She closed the door behind her as Harry moved on to bigger things. The bangs on the other side of the wall had her flinch. With shaky legs she strode across the hall, leaned against the wall and slid down. She clutched her legs close and cried.

"Hermione!" Hermione looked up and saw Ginny run up to her, looking exhausted and her with her cloak almost falling off. The redhead took in her friend's crouched form and distraught state. "What's happening? I saw you run out of the castle and I followed, but Hagrid said you'd gone to Ron and then Ron sent me a patronus—"

"Ginny," Hermione sobbed, "Harry . . ."

Ginny stilled. "Is that him?" she asked, just as a scream was heard in Harry's room.

Hermione nodded and wiped away tears. "I tried, Ginny. I tried telling him it wasn't his fault—"

"His fault?"

"He's having a breakdown. He's blaming himself for everything and I really think I made it worse."

"Don't. Don't blame yourself," said Ginny. "I'll try to fix this—"

There was an even bigger crash, this time on the door. The two girls jumped in surprise.

"DON'T LET HER IN HERE, HERMIONE. I SWEAR IF YOU LET HER SEE ME LIKE THIS I'LL—"

"YOU'LL WHAT?" Ginny screamed. "I'm your bloody girlfriend, Harry James, and I'll expect you to treat me as such!" She opened the door and entered while Hermione stayed behind on the floor.

Someone else arrived from the stairs, their footsteps soft and slow. Hermione looked up to the side and saw Luna, her blonde hair sway in that dreamy way of hers. The way that was so uniquely Luna. Ron was a few steps behind her.

"Hello, Hermione," Luna said. "I arrived with Ginny, but it seemed an urgent matter so she went ahead of me—"

There was a loud sound which interrupted the blonde and made the rest startle. Harry had moved from anger to desperation. He yelled at Ginny, begged her to go away and leave him to rot, and though the witch was strong in so many ways, this had been too much for her as Ginny emerged crying less than a minute after, closing the door gently.

Luna looked at her, a slight frown on her usually dreamlike expression. "It's bad, isn't it?"

Ginny nodded.

There was another crash inside.

Luna patted Ginny's shoulder and opened the door. The rest of them stood waiting— holding their breaths— by the entrance and watched as Harry first froze when spotting the Ravenclaw, and then slowly lowered the flower pot he'd been aiming at them all.

They stared as Luna reached out a hand towards The-Boy-Who-Lived and even more so when he just accepted it. No one caught the pot that fell to the floor with a soft thud when Harry kneeled, breaking down in tears; too immersed in the way Luna just stood there, stroking his hair.

It had been fast, and it had been like magic. It had been out of this world.

It had been Luna Lovegood.

"I couldn't save them," Harry mumbled between sobs against her cloak. "They're gone because of me."

Luna said nothing, and just continued stroking his hair.

o0o0o0o0o0o0o

Hermione woke up, her first thought being that her whole body was aching. She blinked her heavy eyelids and sat up, rubbing her head. To her right she heard a snore and saw Ron clutch his pillow tighter. Next to him, Luna shifted and turned to sleep on her side. Ginny was sitting, leaning against the wall, and caught her eyes and nodded for them to get up. The two witches tip toed around the others, who'd joined them to sit outside of Harry's room while he slept.

Hermione followed Ginny down to the kitchen, which thanks to Kreacher appeared fully stocked.

"I'll put the kettle on," declared Ginny, her voice sounding loud with just the two of them there in the big room. "Do you want anything to eat?"

"No, I'm fine with just a cup of tea. Don't really feel like eating."

Ginny nodded and went to work. A few minutes later they were both clutching a hot mug each at the kitchen table. Outside, the sun was slowly rising. Sunday was over and Monday had arrived.

"I knew something was wrong," said Ginny, breaking the silence again. Now sitting down opposite her in the candle light, Hermione could see the dark shadows under Ginny's eyes as the latter stared into empty space. It looked like she hadn't slept a wink all night. "I knew and yet it came to this."

"Ginny—"

"He's . . . Is he going to be okay, Hermione?"

Hermione reached across the table and grasped one of Ginny's hands. "You know he will."

Ginny sniffed. "I just didn't know what to do. I feel . . ."

"Helpless," Hermione finished for her.

Ginny's expression turned a bit sour. "But Luna managed to calm him."

"Gin—"

"I'm not jealous, not in the way you're thinking, anyway. I love them both and they love each other. It's just that she always managed to comfort him in a way I've never been able to. She's soft and I'm . . . tough."

Hermione nodded in understanding. "That may be, but don't be too hard on yourself. We can't be everything to one another. That's not fair to anyone."

Ginny nodded, but Hermione wasn't sure the redhead had taken her words to heart. Ginny always did love a challenge.

o0o0o0o0o0o0o

"How is he?" Ron asked from the threshold.

Hermione gave him a small and tired smile. "Better. Which isn't much but it's something."

Beside her Harry gave an audible intake of breath as if to confirm. His chest rose in a steady rhythm of up and down and the way he looked so small had Hermione close to crying. Again.

"D'you want to pop outside for a bit?" asked Ron.

"Shouldn't someone—"

"I already asked Luna, and Ginny's speaking to McGonagall via the fireplace."

Having no other choice Hermione stepped away, gently brushing Harry's hair out of his face one last time. As always it refused to stay. She followed Ron out, sending Luna a greeting as the blonde went to replace her.

They'd walked around for a while when Ron stopped just by a patio. "Bit cold, but I figured we could do with a bit of fresh air." He opened and immediately there was a gust of wind filled with snowflakes howling at their faces. The two of them halted in surprise and then gave tiny laughs. Their eyes met and they sobered pretty quickly, their smiles fading as they made to sit on ancient outdoor furniture left behind by some Blacks. Apparently Harry hadn't felt the need to renovate the small enclosure.

"Thank you," Hermione said after Ron had cast a warming charm. He smiled sheepishly in return.

"So," he began. "How you been?"

There was a moment where Hermione's mind went completely blank. She'd been nervous the whole way down, biting her lower lip into oblivion, and then he asks her how he's doing? "Er . . . fine. How—how have you been?"

 _Stupid question, Hermione_ , she berated herself while wishing she hadn't just said that.

Ron was predictably quiet and Hermione cursed her tongue again.

"I'm better now."

Hermione looked at him. "Really?"

"Yeah . . ."

They sat there in silence for a while, letting their poor backs rest on the surprisingly comfortable furniture. Or maybe they were just comfortable because the two of them had been sleeping in a hallway the whole night.

"Remember that night in the infirmary after Department of Mysteries?" asked Hermione suddenly. Exhaustion was over both of them, having spent a whole day and night tending to Harry and in the emotional whirlwind that brought forth, but she somehow managed to get the words out. Ron turned to her, a small smile on his lips.

"Remember it? It was one of the best nights of my life. I was so worried about you, and then you walk up to my bed."

"And you told me all I had missed," said Hermione. "You told me about Harry, and Sirius . . . I saw your scars . . . and I remember that it was then I came to realise how much I cared for you. When I'd been so close to losing you."

Ron's eyes opened wide. "That night? Really?"

Hermione smiled. "Yes."

"Blimey, I looked like hell. Can't have set your bar very high, can you?"

She couldn't believe he was joking, and so she laughed. She laughed and felt relieved. Her friend would be back. Maybe not today, but someday. And by Godric was she thankful.

"How about you, then?" asked Hermione. She was curious.

Ron took a moment, and then shrugged. "You know me, never good with feelings. I'm a strategist, so when I knew how I felt, _that's_ when I set a plan in motion."

Hermione quirked an eyebrow. "Well, it worked."

"Not enough." And the mood was down again. Ron didn't shed the smile, but it was duller; less vibrant.

She took his hand. "Ron . . . can you honestly say that this is what you want? Me, for life? Us, arguing, until we die?"

His smile was back. "It wasn't all that bad."

She smiled too. "No, it was very good. Just . . . "

". . . good like the way best friends would be good."

Hermione smiled apologetically. "Yes."

Ron exhaled. "I've been asked out some, you know."

"Really?"

"Don't sound too surprised," laughed Ron. "I'm a war hero and newly single."

"I wasn't—"

Ron held up a hand. "Calm down, 'Mione. I just hope I don't sound too . . . you know, _me_ , in saying this but . . . I think I might have needed to take some time to see what's out there. Don't get me wrong, you're absolutely brilliant. But I sort of realised that if I'm with you, then I'm with you for life. How couldn't I be? You're amazing. And we're best friends—don't cry!"

Hermione wiped her eyes on her sleeve. "Sorry, go on."

Ron rolled his eyes, but in a way that was fond of her antics. "You and me would have been for life, and while that would have been great I don't think it would have been the best, if you know what I mean. Well, obviously you do, since you were clever enough to break it off."

She snorted unattractively through her tears.

"I just want you to be happy, Ron. So happy."

"I want you to be happy, 'Mione. But for that to happen I suppose we shouldn't be together."

Hermione shook her head.

Ron sighed. "So this is it, then?"

"Yeah."

"It was fun while it lasted."

Hermione nodded, getting the last of her tears away.

"Could you promise me one thing, though?"

"What?"

"Don't start dating the ferret."

She snorted again. "You can't decide that. Not that I want to, but you understand that you can't decide who I date?"

Ron grinned. "At least I tried. So, friends?"

Hermione smiled. "Best friends."

* * *

~o0o~

* * *

 **A/N: Hello, dear readers!**

 **I'm so sorry for the wait, life's just been a little bit crazy! Also, this chapter wasn't the easiest to write.**

 **Harry having a breakdown had been my plan from the very start, but it was difficult having to show him be in that place all the same. I hope you all understand that this isn't all there's gonna be, this is just going to be the start of Harry's healing process. I just found it hard to believe he could go from having had the childhood he had without it resulting in him crashing down at some point. And I wanted to show that his loved ones will be there for him when he does. I wanted them to sit outside his room and take care of him, the boy who's lost so much.**

 **Also, Ron and Hermione were due for some closure.**

 **Hope you enjoyed this chapter despite the sadness!**  
 **Until next time!**  
 **/Primrue**


	23. Pain and Closure, part 2

Pain and Closure, Part 2

* * *

~o0o~

* * *

"No. It's not up for discussion."

"Ginny—"

" _No_ , Harry! I said I wouldn't leave your side and therefore I won't, what about that is so hard to understand?"

"It's your future!"

"I bloody well know that!"

"Well, then you should be at the match!"

"Maybe I'll find some other way to impress the Harpies!"

"Stop being so stubborn!"

"Stop being an idiot!"

Hermione, Ron, Luna and Neville sat around a table in the kitchen, perfectly capable of hearing everything the young couple was arguing about upstairs.

"Lovely tea," said Neville, stirring his drink animatedly, as if doing so would make it seem he wasn't listening in.

"Yeah, it's great!" said Ron a bit too loud. "What d'you say it was made of?"

"Just regular Earl Grey the Muggles are fond of," answered Luna, unaware that the other three were exchanging brief looks of relief.

The 'discussion' (calling it that was being merciful on everyone) had decreased in volume as the door had been closed, presumably due to a realization that their voices carried throughout the Manor, but muffled cries of frustration could still be heard.

"How long do you think they'll be at it?" asked Neville, giving up the pretense of enjoying his tea and settling his spoon down.

"I suspect for however long it takes for Harry to give up," sighed Hermione.

"No way," Ron disagreed. "He's right on this. I mean, we'll be here with him while Ginny goes to play. She shouldn't throw away her whole future for _one_ evening at Harry's side."

"Thanks, Ron," said Ginny, staring icy daggers at her brother after having materialized by the threshold and scared half of them to death with her sudden appearance. "Well, you needn't worry, I'll be leaving. _Even though_ I spoke to McGonagall and _even though_ I found a replacement." She emphasised her words heavily, glancing back ever so slightly at what Hermione assumed was Harry lingering in the shadows behind her. The witch flicked her long hair over her shoulder and hefted her bag. "See you soon."

The room was left with quiet, so much so that they could hear Ginny slam the door shut before she Apparated away to Hogsmeade outside.

Harry shuffled in, his hands in his pockets. "Sorry about that. Thanks for bringing by her stuff though, Neville."

Neville smiled. "Don't mention it, mate."

Harry nodded and balanced awkwardly on his feet. "So . . . how are everyone? Do you need me to call Kreacher to get you anything?"

"We're fine, Harry," said Hermione. When she could tell he was about to slip away out of the room, she hastily cleared her throat. "Although, now that you mention it, would you mind coming with me to the library?"

o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

The Black family library was no ordinary one and for all the reasons to be grateful for that—seeing how they therefore had an abundance of rare books— it also managed to send a chill down Hermione's spine whenever she ventured in there by herself. Her. Of all people! Someone whose whole reputation was based on her loving books! She thought on what her friends would say if they found out that there was a library in which she didn't feel comfortable in. Nevertheless, Harry knew about her squirminess in that part of the Manor and wasn't one to deny her company; after all, scary or not, Hermione valued the knowledge residing within the pages of the heavy and ancient tomes.

"It feels like ages since we've been in here," she said, remembering seeking solace in the books after returning from the Battle. "Do you ever come here by yourself?"

Harry looked up from a book he'd idly been flipping through as he waited for Hermione to pick what to bring back to her room and read. "Hm? Er, no, I don't." As an afterthought he added, "I don't even stay in the Manor nowadays, really. It gets a bit . . ." He made a face as if having to swallow down something putrid ". . . depressing."

"Harry—"

"No, I know what you're going to say, Hermione. I'm fine. It was just a bad moment."

Hermione took a small breath, attempting to somehow gain more patience that way. "Harry, yes, it was a bad moment, but if you don't want there to be more . . ."

"Then what? I see a psychologist? That'll go over easy: 'Hey, I'm here to talk about this war I was in, I saw people die and even died myself. Oh, and I'm a wizard.'" He released the book in his hand, letting it fall back to the table with a loud thud. "They'll have me in a straitjacket before I can even be arrested by the Ministry for exposing the wizarding world."

"There are mind healers, you know. Like, witch and wizard psychologists."

Harry avoided her eyes, looking as if caught in a corner. "I still don't want to talk." Hermione could see how much it pained him to admit it, and how much he knew how childish he sounded, but if she also knew that if she didn't push him on this the consequences could prove enormous in the end.

"You need help."

Harry threw his hands in the air. "How could they help me? Nobody understands, Hermione! No one can! The things I've been through . . . the guilt . . . it's eating me up inside and no one understands!"

Hermione waited as Harry assembled himself again. He took off his glasses and pretended cleaning them, but there was an unmistakable glistening happening in his eyes.

Hermione swallowed back her own emotions, urging her voice not to waver. "Harry . . . we're all here for you. However much you feel you've lost, you still have us. So don't push us away. We might not understand right now, but if you don't talk to us about this you're just making sure we never ever will." She could tell he wanted to believe her, that he did have them and that he wasn't alone, but she also knew he was thinking about all the other people in his life that he'd lost and that having them couldn't make up for the fact that he felt responsible for the deaths of all his other loved ones.

Hermione studied her friend and decided that perhaps he needed to hear something she'd been avoiding telling anyone aloud, and though it was rather obvious perhaps it would help to hear _her_ say it.

"I can't ever stop," she said. Harry looked up, noticing the change in her tone. She continued, "I preoccupy myself with everything I can find, so that I don't think about it. About what happened. About the war, the people we lost . . . about what I nearly lost. It's got so far that I'm looking at memories of the past. Of the time before our hunt."

She could tell Harry was surprised to hear her confession, but more so on that last part. "You watch memories?"

She nodded. She fidgeted a bit with her sleeves, telling him that it was to think back on simpler times and—as she mentioned before—to escape. "You and Ron escape through work, but I can't escape through school anymore, so . . ." She looked up again. "The point is, there will be a time where we can't escape and when that time comes we need to be prepared to deal with our thoughts and feelings catching up with us."

Harry still looked concerned, his brows drawn together. She could feel him watching her now, as if it was she who was in dire need of help. Perhaps she was. Now that she heard herself say the words aloud she couldn't help but admit that continuing this way would end in nothing but catastrophe.

"Anyway," she said, breaking the growing silence surrounding them, "if you won't talk to us, do you think you'd be willing to get help? If not for yourself, then for me? I'm scared for you."

"What about you?"

Hermione blinked in surprise for a moment, but then willed forward a smile. "I promise, if I have a breakdown, you're more than welcome to haul me by the arms to Saint Mungos."

Harry gave the smallest of grins. "I'll hold you to that."

o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

Hermione and Harry spoke little after that, both having instead found something light to read in amiable silence (not in the library, but a study nearby with comfortable armchairs). It had been a long time since either of them had done it and the comfort that came from something so familiar was felt by both.

Hermione knew Harry wasn't cured by any means, despite his now peaceful air around him. Though it was all right for now, she worried, she couldn't help it. But she could tell he was one step closer to . . . well, closure. It was a small step, but a step nonetheless.

With these thoughts in the back of her mind, Hermione read about some ancient magic found within London, feeling some of the stress and anxiousness about Harry's condition ebb away, until Ron dropped by, looking carefully around and dropping his shoulders in relief when finding his two best friends reading pleasantly.

"Harry, Hermione," he said, "Food's ready."

Harry closed his copy of old broom techniques, while Hermione carried with her the book she'd been reading, finding it to have been of some interest.

"You go ahead, I'll just go leave this in my room," she said. Hermione walked up the steps, slowing down only when she passed a familiar room visible from the staircase.

The twins' room.

A twinge of something sharp lodging itself in her heart made Hermione falter and take a step back. Even now, after all this time, she could smell the gun powder; even now, she could hear the bangs and yells of surprise coming from behind those doors as if it were yesterday.

Walking slowly, she approached the room, the smells and memories growing clearer with each step. But before she could push the door open, her hand stopped at the handle, the coolness of the metal waking her up, reminding her that there would be no warmth waiting for her on the other side.

She found herself thinking about how they all need closure. How Harry needed to move on from the war, and how nice it was to have closure with Ron.

Her hand tightened around the handle with new determination. She took a deep breath, feeling something well up inside, as if her body knew what she was doing and wanted to make it as hard as possible. She didn't want to cry anymore. She was sick of it.

So she closed the door without even stepping inside.

Well downstairs again, Hermione attempted to push all lingering feelings from before aside and focus on the present. She walked into the kitchen and was so surprised at what greeted her that she could already feel some of it slip away. She stared. There were cakes and mountains of food, all surrounded by banners of red and gold.

"What on . . ."

Harry, who'd been on his way from the fireplace since she appeared, smiled sheepishly. "I told Kreacher to do it this way. As if she'd really lose, you know?"

Hermione smiled. "Your faith in her is astounding. But you're right."

No more than an hour passed after that that Ginny burst through the entrance to Grimmauld Place, sprinting in her Quidditch gear to Harry and kissing him right on the lips. Harry was surprised at the turn of events and gently tried to ease her off of him, his cheeks red from the people watching, but Ginny kissed him harder.

"We won!" Ginny said when finally prying herself away. "We won, and a talent scout was there! She told me I could expect an owl from the Harpies!"

"That is fantastic, Ginny!" exclaimed Hermione.

"Well done, sis!" said Ron, despite having muttered to Hermione just a second ago that even a win shouldn't warrant a snog like that in front of her brother.

Luna and Neville congratulated her as well, but it was Harry Ginny was looking at.

"Thank you," said Ginny, looking into his eyes and palming his cheeks.

Harry grinned. "I did nothing, it was all you."

This made Ginny beam and kissed him again.

"Oh right, I was supposed to tell you, McGonagall is on her way."

The rest of them looked in surprise.

Ginny continued to explain, "We caught the prankers, the ones who've been hexing the Quidditch gear and she's off reprimanding them right now, but she really wanted to follow me here, Harry. I suppose she got worried."

If Harry had been red before, he was scarlet now.

o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

"What do you suppose they're talking about?" asked Ron, observing Harry and Professor McGonagall standing by the fireplace, speaking.

"It's none of our business, Ron," said Hermione, though secretly wondering that as well. She took a sip of her butterbeer. "Speaking of which, I sent a warning to a certain writer for the Daily Prophet to keep her nose out of this. What?" she added at the others' looks. "We weren't exactly discreet about going away, and people noticed according to Neville."

"I didn't say they were gossiping, exactly," said Neville, "Rather that we're . . ."

Ginny rolled her eyes. "We're famous, the lot of us, people were bound to realise we were gone. Thanks for making sure Harry won't have to deal with that too, Hermione."

"Dare I ask what you sent Rita Skeeter, or will I regret it?" Ron's expression was torn between curiosity and cautiousness.

Hermione waved him off. "Oh, it was perfectly harmless. I just sent her a bag of small liquorice treats. However, they might have been in the shape of beetles— but I assure you that was just a coincidence."

"You know it's not a coincidence if you charmed them to look that way, right?" Ginny grinned.

"Oh, they look like they're finished," said Luna.

Indeed, Harry was sauntering over with Professor McGonagall in tow. Her hand rested momentarily on his shoulder and he gave her a small smile which she returned.

"I thank you for your hospitality, Mr. Potter," said McGonagall. "It was nice to see you and I hope . . .I hope your health improves until the next time we meet."

"Thank you, Professor."

She smiled at him. Then she turned to the rest of them, specifically Luna, Hermione, Neville and Ginny. "And you four, I expect you all to return within the week, is that understood?"

"Yes, Professor," they chorused.

When she left, the others immediately turned to Harry.

He gave a shrug, looking happy. "She wants us to have tea once a week. She wants to tell me about my parents."

"Oh, Harry," said Hermione, hugging him to her. "I'm so happy for you."

"That's incredible, mate," said Ron.

And for one moment, everything did feel incredible.

o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

When they bade good bye to Grimmauld Place the next day, Ron and Harry stood on the threshold waving them off. Hermione watched them, feeling sad about leaving, but also confident in leaving Harry in Ron's hands.

 _And now, Professor McGonagall's as well I suppose_ , she thought, bemused.

It had been an amazing thing for their Headmistress to do, although a part of Hermione pondered why the old Transfiguration teacher hadn't taken it upon her to do so before. Though, of course, Sirius had told Harry a few stories about James and Lily Potter, but still . . .had it really been enough? Whatever the case, Hermione was glad that there was someone left to tell Harry stories about the past.

 _While on the subject of past . . ._

"You can go ahead," she told her friends as they got off the carriage that had been waiting for them in Hogsmeade. Neville, Luna and Ginny (who had been in a sour mood the entire ride from having to leave her boyfriend) all gave looks of surprise. Ginny's eyes started to narrow and her brow began to raise inquisitively, but Luna took hold of her arm.

"Come now, Ginny, Hermione has something she needs to do, we mustn't bother her."

"Yes, but—"

The end of that sentence was drowned out by Luna beginning to explain her newfound theory about a conspiracy happening right now in Luxembourg, and how it could result in the extinction of the 'Moon Frog'.

"You'll be right behind us, yeah?" asked Neville.

Hermione gave him a reassuring nod.

When he was out of sight, she gingerly went up to the Thestral that stood obediently in front of the carriage. When it was clear it was okay with her approaching, she reached out a hand.

Hermione stroked the mane a couple of times, feeling the creature relax against her, and gave a heavy sigh. The determination she'd found the day before was still there, but now that she was here, when she was reminded of what she was stroking, it all got so much more difficult.

It was time to let go, she knew that, but . . .

She gave sob. "He's why I can see you now, you know—He's the reason . . . because I saw . . ." The tears were allowed to stream freely down Hermione's cheeks. Mostly because she didn't care. She sniffed loudly and willed herself to continue. "I have to let go, you understand, don't you? I truly hope you understand." She wasn't sure who she was talking to anymore, though knowing that Thestrals were said to be connected to the other side, maybe she was hoping they could give Fred the message, the message that while she had cared for him, she needed to . . . even if she didn't want to.

After a final pat, Hermione stepped away from the Thestral, allowing it to trot away. She squared her shoulders, and went up to the castle to watch the last vials, and after that . . . she needed to move on.

* * *

~o0o~

* * *

 **A/N: Wow….yeah, so Hermione is ready to watch the last of the vials! Are youuuu guys ready for that? (If I could send you all chocolate, I would)**  
 **I can't believe we're finally getting there, it's incredible!**

 **There will be chapters after the last vial, so don't worry it won't all be over after that! So you have some time to get ready for the end (though I'm not sure just how many chapters there will be after the last vial hmm)**

 **ALSO I am so sorry it's been so long! I've said this before, but schoooool! So much school! And I haven't had time to edit this chapter as much as the others so if it's choppy, then that's why! Hopefully, you understood what I was trying to say anyway *hopeful smile in your direction***

 **Anyway, I hope you're all doing well, and that you know how thankful I am for your continued support! Your reviews are lovely, just like you! Cinnamon buns, the lot of you! Nom nom nom**

 **Until next time!**  
 **/Primrue**


	24. Sixth Year

Sixth Year

* * *

~o0o~

* * *

Hermione had closed her eyes when diving into the Pensieve, therefore only feeling—but missed seeing—the first memory take shape from the dark mist swirling around in the water. Her eyes remained firmly shut, even as sounds of people laughing and tiny explosions filled her ears. She didn't dare open them. She couldn't. It would all be over soon. She was going to make it be over and she didn't want it to be.

But then she heard him.

"For that, Hermione, you can have one for free."

She gaped and gasped as her eyes flew open, immediately taking him in. He was beaming, his smile wide and radiant as the sun, and it hurt for all the right reasons. He was beautiful.

"How are you, Harry?" Fred adjusted his magenta coloured robes, like the business man he was, and shook hands with Harry. He then turned back to memory Hermione and one his eyebrows rose. "And what's happened to your eye, Hermione?"

"Your punching telescope," she answered, ruefully.

"Oh, blimey, I forgot about those," he said. "Here—" He handed her younger self a tub of the thick yellow paste she remembered having had to put on her eye. Memory Hermione was observing the paste as Fred told her the instructions on how to use it. "We had to find a decent bruise-remover, we're testing most of our products on ourselves."

The way Hermione now noticed how Fred was acting around her; from the beaming at her praise of their 'Daydream Charms' to him telling her that he and George tested most of their products on themselves—most likely to assure her that they were through testing on first years, or perhaps as a joke even to remark on their disagreement the year before—it all made her, once again, wonder how she had been so blind. Harry, she understood. Even standing next to them right now he appeared to see nothing amiss. But how could she not notice the small looks Fred gave her when he thought she wasn't looking? How he tried to take his eyes off of her . . .

"It is safe, isn't it?" her younger self asked nervously.

Fred shook himself out of it one last time and replied, bracingly, 'Course it is." He placed a hand on Harry's arm, beginning to steer him away, "Come on, Harry, I'll give you a tour."

He led Harry away towards the corner with Muggle magic tricks (something Hermione thought odd that he was sharing only with Harry, seeing as Hermione was Muggleborn . . .) while Memory 'Mione struggled with dabbing paste onto her eye. It wouldn't be until a minute later that Ginny would appear and take pity on her and help, leaving them to explore the 'Daydream Charms' a bit more.

George joined Harry and Fred and the memory changed . . .

Fred and George were in what Hermione presumed was the back of the shop and it appeared to be night time. The store was quiet and the silence was near deafening compared to the commotion previously shown. George sank down into his chair, while Fred was already seated and in the middle of poring over some scrolls of parchment on his desk.

"That was exhausting," said George, sighing in relief and closing his eyes while his head fell back.

"It was quite a day," agreed Fred, scratching something out with his quill.

"D'you know why I thought it was so exhausting, though?"

"I don't, but from your tone I gather that I'd rather not know."

"Well," George continued, as if Fred hadn't spoken, "if you _really_ want to know—it was exhausting because I had to chase after you all day." He straightened and looked at his twin. "You told me not to leave you alone with her and so I didn't. I mean, I came a little late the first time but I tried my best."

"As much as I appreciate it, we were never alone. Either Ginny or Harry was there."

"You were making pining eyes, brother."

Fred put down his quill, frowning. "I'm trying," he said. Then he sighed and ran a hand down his face. "I've been trying all summer. But then she was there, George. And she was even complimenting us, saying our magic was 'extraordinary', and I—" Fred stopped himself and took a moment to consider what to say next. His silence lingered for a while longer than either Hermione or George were used to when it came to him, and it was just as George opened his mouth to ask what was wrong that Fred's frown gradually disappeared and was replaced by a look of acceptance. And then a smile.

Fred turned to his brother and looked ever the Gryffindor as held that smile in place and said, "It's obvious now that she'll always have a place in my heart and I think I'll just have to deal with that fact."

"But?" George prompted, relieved to have his brother talk again.

" _But_ , just because she has an effect on me, doesn't mean I have to let it mean anything anymore. Our story, however one-sided, is done. It's been done for a long time." He sighed again and his next words made Hermione's breath catch. "I want to move on."

George's eyes filled with emotion and when he spoke it was barely louder than a whisper, "I do so admire you, big bro'."

The memory dissolved and took a new shape. This time it wasn't at Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes but in a hospital room, and judging by the moving portraits on walls, Hermione deduced they were at St Mungo's. She turned to where Fred sat, hunched over on a chair and holding an unconscious Katie's hand. Hermione felt her own hands clench at the sight, her nails digging into her palm a little too much. But she couldn't help it, not with what Fred had said just a second ago . . .

"The Healers said she'd be fine," George assured him. He was standing by the edge of the bed, looking equally concerned, no matter what he said. "Katie's parents seemed to take their word for it, at least."

"When do you reckon they'll be back?" Fred asked. "I hate to say it, but Verity can only handle so much in our absence. Perhaps we should just tell her to close for the day?"

"Not the worst idea," hummed George. "I don't know if I could take smiling all day when having seen her like this—"

"I came as soon as I heard," a voice called from the entrance of the room.

Fred lifted his head, but George froze in place. Angelina didn't seem to notice. With hurried steps and white Healer robes billowing around her, she gave off the impression of an angel approaching to heal the sick. Hermione watched as the other girl leaned down to press her palm against Katie's forehead.

"Must have been some curse," Angelina said, her words promising vengeance on whoever had been responsible for her friend's condition. "She's ice cold."

"It's good to see you, Ange," said Fred. "Alicia with you? We're waiting for Wood and Lee at the moment, but we didn't know—"

"Alicia is out of the country at the moment studying some rare creatures, but she told me she'd be back by the end of the month." Angelina's lips set in a grim line. "Hopefully, Katie will be out by then."

"They let you wear Healer robes already?" George asked suddenly, speaking for the first time since Angelina had entered.

The girl arched an eyebrow his way, but didn't look him directly in the eyes. "I was assisting a charm gone wrong and it ruined my apprentice robe, burned it. My mentor let me borrow his."

The 'his' appeared to bother George as his face set in a near sneer at the word. But he restrained himself from letting it go on too long. "They . . . suit you."

Angelina squared her shoulders and looked to Katie again. "Thank you."

Meanwhile, as silence brewed more tension, Fred's gaze shifted back and forth between his brother and friend. He didn't like what he saw, but he also thought better than to address the issue; whatever had happened to George and Angelina wasn't going to fix itself until they themselves were willing to fix it. Hermione reminded herself that despite the scene she was now witness to, they did get together in the end. And from what she'd seen, they were happy. Well, except for one big thing, of course . . .

"I'm going to see if Lee's on his way," said George, already out of the door by the time his words registered with the other two conscious people.

"You know—" Fred started, but Angelina quickly interrupted him.

"I'll just see with my mentor if he's all right with me staying here, or if he needs me for something." Her face softened as she looked at Fred, and then Katie. "It was nice seeing you, Fred. Look after her for me if I don't come back today, okay? And make sure the boys don't get too loud in here. It's a hospital after all."

Fred shook his head exasperatedly when she left. "What am I to do with those two, eh, Katie?" He took her hand in both of his, and chuckled. "At least I'm not suffering in that way anymore. Did I tell you, Kates? I'm a free man, out on the prowl. No longer in danger of the Granger." His smile faded and his expression shifted into a pained one. "If you'd been awake you'd tell all of us to get our heads out of our arses. Wake up soon, will you?"

The memory changed.

Fred held the letter in his hand in disbelief. His eyes moved along the page and read what was written, over and over again. Hermione glanced at it and saw that it was from her. Understanding dawned and she waited for Fred's response. To her disappointment, he merely sat it aside in the end.

"Well?" George asked from his desk. "What propelled Prefect Granger to put quill to paper this time?"

"Believe it or not, to scold us." Fred chuckled. "Apparently, she disapproves of our love potions, she's afraid girls will try to use them against Harry."

"Ah, The Boy Who Lived at it again with his charms and non-existent knowhow when it comes to women. Granger is right to be concerned."

"Yeah, but we can't stop shipping them to those girls, largely because we have no way of knowing who they are."

George grinned. "Hermione didn't provide a list I take it? Shame."

"Mhm," said Fred, eyeing the parchment again. "No mention of being concerned about Ron, though. They really must be on the outs."

"Can you blame her, Freddie? Bloke's given her one impression, only to snog another girl right in front of her face in the common room. And to think we were worried about Ginny at the start of this year."

"'Course, but with Ginny there was more to it. I've never been able to shake the fear of her getting snared in by pretty words like she did with Riddle."

"Hey," said George, matching his twin's serious expression. "We both were worried about her, but Dean's a good kid, we've known him for years. He wouldn't take advantage of her. Besides, there's only one evil like Voldy, and I doubt he's after our sister right now."

Fred shrugged. When he didn't say anything else, Hermione noticed he was looking at the letter in his hand again, his gaze soft and ghost of a smile on his lips. He was tracing her writing with his eyes. It made her blush for some strange reason.

The scene switched . . .

The next memory was set in the Burrow, the kitchen to be more exact. Ron and Harry were peeling Mountain Sprouts and talking about the time Fred and George tried to make Ron take an Unbreakable Vow when they were little. Hermione grimaced and fought to remember that they'd most likely not known what they were doing to their little brother as they'd been small themselves. Or so she hoped, at least.

" . . .only time I've ever seen Dad as angry as Mum. Fred reckons his left buttock has never been the same since."

Harry made a face (as did Hermione, but a slightly different—more embarrassed— one). "Yeah, well passing over Fred's left buttock—"

"I beg your pardon?" said Fred's voice as the twins entered the kitchen. "Ah, George, look at this. They're using knives and everything. Bless them."

Hermione watched as the sibling bickered and teased regarding Ron's inability to use magic while underage and was somewhat horrified at the sight of George making Ron cut his own thumb. Nevertheless, she waited to see what this memory was for as it still wasn't clear, unlike the other ones which had demonstrated quite strongly Fred's urge to move on. While she knew logically that it was nothing to be upset about (because even ignoring the fact that she inadvertently caused him anguish, wasn't that exactly was she was doing now?) a part of her needed to know if these memories had stayed with him until the very end, _or_ —she felt her stomach churn at the thought—perhaps these memories were extracted memories. Memories Fred had deemed too painful to live with.

The fear had been in the back of her mind for some time. As the vials displayed more and more of Fred's unrequited feelings and his struggle to keep them that way for the sake of his brother, the more Hermione had feared the possibility that these memories were here for other reasons than fond nostalgia. That Fred hadn't wanted to share his childhood crush with her, but that the memories were placed here to be forgotten.

Which would mean the last time she saw him, he had most likely not remembered how he'd felt about her, and somehow that possibility made Hermione want to fall apart all over again.

But she had promised herself not to cry anymore. She was going to go through all of the memories and then she could cry.

Hermione returned her attention to the boys.

"You wait," said Ron angrily, sucking his thumb as it bled, "when I'm seventeen—"

"I'm sure you'll dazzle us all with hitherto unsuspected magical skills," yawned Fred.

"And speaking of hitherto unsuspected skills, Ronald," said George, ignoring a sudden reproachful look from Fred who looked like he knew where his twin was going with this, "what is this we hear from Ginny about you and a young lady called—unless our information is faulty—Lavender Brown?"

While Ron turned a little pink, Hermione found herself yet again oddly unaffected by the mention of Lavender. The girl she'd been so annoyed with growing up, someone who Hermione had thought had stolen a boy that was hers, was now instead someone Hermione only thought back on with sadness.

Ron went back to his sprouts, but did not look entirely displeased as he told the twins to mind their own business.

"What a snappy retort," said Fred. "I really don't know how you think of them. No, what we wanted to know was . . .how did it happen?"

"What d'you mean?" asked Ron, the sprouts forgotten once more.

"Did she have an accident or something?"

"What?"

"Well, how did she sustain such extensive brain damage? Careful now!"

Mrs. Weasley entered the room just in time to see Ron throw the sprouts knife at Fred, who turned it into a paper airplane with one lazy flick of his wand.

"Ron!" their mother said furiously. "Don't you ever let me see you throwing knives again!"

Ron only muttered something in reply and Mrs. Weasley told the twins about the sleeping situation over the holidays as more siblings would trickle in, as well as Fleur.

"—everyone should be comfortable. Well, they'll have a bed, anyway," said Mrs. Weasley, the stress of arranging such things seeping through in her voice.

"Percy definitely not showing his ugly face, then?" asked Fred, seemingly ignoring his mother's already distraught tone. But there was genuine curiosity there.

Mrs. Weasley turned away before she answered. "No, he's busy, I expect, at the Ministry."

"Or he's the world's biggest prat," said Fred, dismissively, as his mother left the kitchen, his curiosity from before evaporating. "One of the two. Well, let's get going, then, George."

"What are you up to?" asked Ron. "Can't you help us with these sprouts? You could just use your wand and then we'll be free, too!"

"No, I don't think we can do that," said Fred seriously. "It's very character-building stuff, learning to peel sprouts without magic, makes you appreciate how difficult it is for Muggles and Squibs—"

"—and if you want people to help you, Ron," added George, throwing the paper airplane at him, "I wouldn't chuck knives at them. Just a little hint." We're off to the village, there's a very pretty girl working in the paper shop who thinks my card tricks are something marvelous . . .almost like real magic . . ."

Then, Fred and George chuckled their way out the door, walking across the snowy yard of the Burrow and onto the road, Hermione following behind them.

"So," Fred started, putting his hands in the pockets of his robes, "definitely over between you and Ange, is it?"

"For something to be over, it would first need to have started, wouldn't it?" At Fred's pointed gaze, George rolled his eyes and shrugged, "I dunno, but I think so. It never was the same after we were thrown out of the team by Umbridge. And while she knew it wasn't entirely our doing, Angelina, she . . . you know she blames me for losing my temper like that. She was counting on me and I let her down. And it didn't help that we never went anywhere, we were always at this sort of standstill, and you can't blame her for growing tired of it . . ." George sighed. "I'm trying to follow your example. You seem more at ease nowadays. Though I apologise for asking Ron about Lavender."

"I am more at ease, thank you," Fred smiled. "And while it was exactly the thing I asked you not to do, I can't blame you for being curious. I was too. D'you reckon he likes her much?"

George made a face in mock-consideration. "Well, considering he threw a knife at you, I'd say he likes her okay. Hey, you don't think you should . . .?"

"I was thinking about it. Ron made his choice, right? I gave him time and he chose Lavender." Fred chuckled. "Although, who knows if they'll last the week? They're teenagers, after all."

The memory changed and shaped itself anew, and Hermione's mind was boggled. Was Fred insinuating that he had planned on acting on his feelings for her? This contradicted everything else she'd seen so far! He had just been trying to move on and now he . . .That's when Hermione remembered Fred's words from before. Yes, Lavender and Ron hadn't broken up a week after Christmas, but it hadn't been too long after that they did. Which meant that Fred most likely never had the chance to say anything before her and Ron were back to their usual selves.

Around her the mist had set and she noticed she and the twins were in Hogsmeade, in front of a joke shop.

"Yeah, this could be incredible," said Fred, stepping back a bit, observing Zonko's in its entirety, including the large 'for sale' sign hanging down the front. "It would be the perfect place actually to expand WWW. All those Hogsmeade weekends."

George nodded, looking equally exhilarated. "And it would only be right to pay Zonko's back for inspiring us. Though, he might be regretting that now . . . Poor bloke, we never meant to be that hard of a competition."

The two of them walked along the lamplit streets, George carrying a large wrapped gift, which Hermione immediately knew was for Ron. That meant it was Ron's birthday . . . Dread filled her knowing what Fred would come to hear. That Ron had been poisoned.

Sure enough, a moment later there was an owl flying towards them from the castle, and Fred retrieved a note from it.

"It's from Ginny. It says Ron's in the Hospital Wing and that we should come quick."

Fred and George apparated to the gates, and after going through a rather torturous dialogue with Filch—who didn't believe them when they said they were only back to see their brother and nothing else—McGonagall arrived.

"For goodness' sake, Argus, their brother has been injured! Show some sympathy!"

Filch only sent a glare after them, promising pain if they stepped out of line.

"Always knew you had a soft spot for us, Minnie," said Fred. When she only sent him an arched eyebrow, he held his hands up. "All right, Professor it is. Though we technically already are out of school . . ."

"You didn't graduate," said Professor McGonagall, though amusement coated her lips. "If we're to focus on technicalities."

The twins grinned.

She led them swiftly to the outside of the Hospital Wing. "Your brother has just been allowed visitors so it would be best to keep any racket to a minimum. Understood?"

The twins nodded and their former Head of House strode away, but not before surprising them with a 'it's good to see you again'.

"This day has been topsy-turvy," said George, the corner of his lip pulling up. "Ready?"

They entered.

Ginny immediately scrambled out of her chair to hug them both. Harry and Hermione remained in their seats surrounding Ron's bed, which was the only occupied one in the room.

"Gin, what happened?" asked George as she sat down again and they followed her to stand by the bed. "In your letter you only said he'd been injured. How?"

"He was poisoned," Ginny answered shakily.

"Poisoned?" George repeated.

"So, all in all, not one of Ron's better birthdays?" said Fred, attempting to lighten the mood. But no one laughed, and even Fred himself couldn't muster a smile.

"This isn't how we imagined handing over our present," said George grimly, putting it down on Ron's bedside cabinet and sitting beside Ginny.

"Yeah, when we pictured the scene, he was conscious," said Fred, joke number two striking out like the first one had. He didn't seem to care though. The only thing he had eyes for was his youngest brother, and Hermione couldn't blame him. The whole experience had been jarring.

"There we were in Hogsmeade, waiting to surprise him—" said George.

"You were in Hogsmeade?" asked Ginny, looking up.

"We were thinking of buying Zonko's," said Fred gloomily. "A Hogsmeade branch, you know, but a fat load of good it'll do us if you lot aren't allowed out at weekends to buy our stuff any more . . . but never mind that now."

He drew up a chair beside Harry and looked at Ron's pale face again. "How exactly did it happen, Harry?"

Then, Harry went into explaining how he and Ron been in Slughorn's office, how Harry had asked him to help Ron recover from a love potion smuggled in by Romilda Vane (Fred and George exchanged a grim look at that) and how the toast to celebrate the fact had led to Ron's poisoning.

". . .and then I got the bezoar down his throat and his breathing eased up a bit, Slughorn ran for help, McGonagall and Madam Pomfrey turned up, and they brought Ron up here. They reckon he'll be all right. Madam Pomfrey says he'll have to stay here a week or so . . .keep taking Essence of Rue . . ."

"Blimey, it was lucky you thought of a bezoar," said George in a low voice.

"Lucky there was one in the room," said Harry, his shoulders hunching up and his fingers fiddling with dread at what could have happened.

Fred looked more or less the same, until a sniff caught his attention. For the first time he'd noticed memory Hermione's presence, overwhelmed as he must have been by the events surrounding his brother's hospitalization. He looked her way and then he looked to Ron, his eyelids halfway closed, heavy in contemplation.

"Do Mum and Dad know?" Fred eventually asked Ginny.

"They've already seen him, they arrived an hour ago—they're in Dumbledore's office now, but they'll be back soon . . ."

There was a pause as Ron mumbled something incoherent in his sleep.

"So the poison was in the drink?" said Fred quietly, not wanting to wake his brother up from a well-deserved rest.

"Yes," said Harry at once, looking eager to discuss the matter again; to get closer to the answer. "Slughorn poured it out—"

"Would he have been able to slip something into Ron's glass without you seeing?"

"Probably," said Harry, "but why would Slughorn want to poison Ron?"

They discussed the matter of Slughorn possibly being out to poison to Ron, or whether or not the old Professor could have been after Harry the whole time, until they finally landed on the possibility of someone being out to poison Slughorn himself.

"Dumbledore reckons Voldemort wanted Slughorn on his side," said Harry. "Slughorn was in hiding for a year before he came to Hogwarts. And . . .and maybe Voldemort wants him out of the way, maybe he thinks he could be valuable to Dumbledore."

"But you said Slughorn had been planning to give that bottle to Dumbledore for Christmas, Ginny reminded him. "So the poisoner could just as easily have been after Dumbledore."

"Then the poisoner didn't know Slughorn very well," said Hermione, speaking for the first time in what real Hermione knew had been hours. The result was a voice that sounded like she had a bad head-cold. Fred grew a concerned look at the sound of it, but there was relief there at the fact that she was coming out of her shell and speaking. "Anyone who knew Slughorn would have known there was a good chance he'd keep something that tasty for himself."

Barely a second after she'd spoken the last word, was there a croak from Ron's bed.

"Er—my—nee," he said, making everyone in the room still and wait for him to wake up. Which he didn't. A moment later he was muttering incomprehensibly before starting to snore.

Memory Hermione's eyes were wide as she stared at his face, while the others kept quiet, George and Ginny exchanging concerned looks, while Fred wasn't doing much of anything except sit and stare at the foot of Ron's bed.

Then, they all jumped out of the increased tension as Hagrid stormed in, telling them he just heard about Ron. After being reminded by Madam Pomfrey of the limit of visitors allowed in the wing, who then attempted to cover her confusion of mistaking him for two people by vanishing his mud tracks on the floor, he shook his head while staring in shock at the resting Ron.

"I don't believe this," he said. "Jus' don' believe it . . .look at him lyin' there . . .who'd want ter hurt him, eh?"

"That's just what we were discussing," said Harry. "We don't know."

Hagrid then asked if it could have been someone after the Quidditch team, bringing up Katie's attack, but George answered that he didn't think that was the case.

"I can't see anyone trying to bump off a Quidditch team," he said.

"Wood might've done the Slytherins if he could have got away with it," said Fred fairly.

"Well, I don't think it's Quidditch, but there's I think there's a connection between the attacks," said Hermione quietly.

"How d'you reckon that?" asked Fred, leaning forward in his seat and granting her his full attention to encourage her to speak more.

"Well, for one thing," she said, her voice growing a bit stronger, but still possessing a lot of the same hollow tone from before, "they ought to have been fatal and weren't, although it was pure luck. And for another, neither the poison nor the necklace seems to have reached the person who was supposed to be killed. Of course," she added broodingly, "that makes the person behind this even more dangerous in a way, because they don't seem to care how many people they finish off before they actually reach their victim."

During the entirety of Hermione's monologue, Fred had watched her, taking in her explanation, trying to get with the information and speculation she was providing, but while all of this had been happening there had also been time for admiration to fill his eyes. And while he had busied himself with watching her, real Hermione had been watching him. Wondering how she never could have seen this amazing man, who even in the light of such a tragic event befalling his brother, he managed to find it within himself to distract a girl who was shaken by it too, but who hadn't seemed to cope quite well. Someone so incredible had been in front of her this whole time, and she hadn't even bothered to look up to meet his eyes as she spoke to him.

The scene changed . . .

She transported into an unfamiliar bedroom. It was small, but there were banners donning the walls, and a mountain of sweets and Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes products lying at the foot of the bed. Katie Bell sat propped up by pillows against the headboard.

"Thanks, Ange, but you really needn't—fine, just get on with it," Katie said, allowing her friend to fluff the pillows behind her back.

"Just making you comfortable, love," said Angelina, smiling gently.

"Better just do what she says, Katie. After all, you coming back isn't about your recovery but actually Angelina's need to feel useful," said George.

There was a moment of silence, all but for Angelina's increased force behind the fluffing of the pillows, until Lee stepped in and made a joke about him wanting to feel useful too.

"Perhaps I could dedicate a song to you on my radio," he winked at Katie. "Well, whenever we can get it running again."

"The thing was ancient even before you showed it to us," said George, rolling his eyes.

As he and Lee bickered, and Alicia and Oliver stayed out of it, with Alicia asking Oliver about his season, Katie sent Fred a look. He responded with a tired shrug and she nodded, looking equally tired. Meanwhile, Angelina said nothing.

"Ange, I think I'm good, yeah?" Katie said after a while, laying a hand on top of Angelina's. "Thank you."

Angelina swallowed. "You're welcome. Hey, should we go get you the rest of your presents?"

Katie's eyes bulged. "There's more?"

"'Course!" said Lee. "You couldn't possibly have thought this was it?"

"We didn't want to overwhelm you, just be glad the twins were persuaded against a welcome back firework show," said Alicia, shaking her head.

When they all made to go downstairs, Katie held her hand out, "Fred, would you mind waiting here with me?"

Fred closed the door after the others and sat down on a chair next to the bed. "What's up?"

Katie's expression turned serious. "You tell me. Have they honestly not sorted this ridiculous row they're having? It's been ages!"

Fred chuckled. "Believe me, I'm aware."

"So?" Katie pushed on. "Isn't it about time we forced them to sort it out?"

Fred's face lost all humour, his eyes turning dark. "Unless you'd like one of them to not come out alive, then no. They're not going to listen to us."

The girl sighed. "I suppose you're right. It just kills me to see two people that could be so great together, be so stubborn and childish."

Fred nodded and fiddled with the ribbon of one of the wrapped boxes he'd brought, listening to his friend.

Katie leaned back, having taken the box and worked on unwrapping it. "What's going on with you, then? Anything interesting? Love life wise?"

"That all you're interested in, then?"

"Not really, I've just been in a coma for a while. The gossip is nice and light. Besides, Leanne never has anything to share in that department, which is strange because she's a nice enough girl, you know?" She shook her head. "Never mind, I'm drifting off topic. Well?"

Fred chuckled softly, then straightened up against the back of his chair with his hands clasped in his lap. "You know me; no one can resist my charm."

"How good for you," Katie responded wryly, examining the 'fainting fancies' in her hands. She lifted the box and held it visible for Fred to see. "Really? I just woke up."

Fred grinned. "And as soon as you're back in school you'll realise the big mistake you made in doing so."

"Thank you, but I think not," said Katie, moving it to the side. "And speaking of school . . .You heard about Ron and Lavender, right? You must have heard?"

Fred blinked. "I'm surprised you have. Leanne?"

"Ginny. She was sending me letters, updating me about the team all while I was in St Mungos. And in some of them she brought along news as well. News about her, about you and George, and about Ron in that one case." Katie paused. "So . . .didn't that make you think perhaps it was time . . .?"

Fred shrugged. "There's no time, Katie. Whatever time Hermione has . . .it won't be with me."

Katie frowned. "Are you sure?"

"Positive," Fred answered, his determined gaze leaving no room for objection. "She's head over heels for someone else and I should be too. We're not in school anymore."

Katie snorted. "I am."

Fred flicked a piece of crumpled wrapping paper at her.

The memory shifted . . .

Dumbledore's funeral. As soon as Hermione entered this new memory she knew that it was Dumbledore's funeral. Even now, over a year later, she could feel the shift in atmosphere. Even now, she was astounded they'd all managed without him to lead them. Never mind her personal feelings and wonderings surrounding the old Headmaster; his presence had been enormous in the Wizarding community, there was no denying. And if you wouldn't believe it when hearing about all he'd done, you could simply gaze at the vast crowd of witches and wizards attending his funeral.

Hundreds of chairs had been set out in rows by the Black Lake. Young and old, Order members and not, alive and dead even (the ghosts were barely visible in the sunlight), all of them were there to show their respects to the great Albus Dumbledore.

Hermione spotted Fred and George, wearing black dragon skin jackets, sitting a few rows in front of where she knew she, Harry, Ginny and Ron were seated. The two of them wore as serious an air as the two of them could, obviously as disheartened as the rest of them that the man with the twinkling blue eyes were gone. Eyes that could now only be seen on his portrait.

"You know, I still can't believe it," said George.

"I don't think you're alone in that, brother," said Bill, grimacing as he failed to stand like the rest of the crowd and instead sunk back into his seat again.

"There's no need to rush, chére," said Fleur, fiddling with his bandages, making sure nothing was out of place. "The ceremony just ended."

"I know, I know," Bill sighed, looking disappointed in himself nonetheless.

In front of them, their mother gave an audible sniff and Mr. Weasley wrapped a comforting arm around his wife.

"Where's the rest of our lot?" George asked. "Anyone seen Ron and Gin around?"

Fred smiled weakly and pointed a thumb behind him. "They're with Harry and Hermione."

George followed to where he pointed and immediately his expression fell. Harry was walking away from the rest of them, alone around the lake, leaving Ginny falling forward in her seat as soon as his back turned. It looked like she was trying to pull herself together. And to make matters worse, Ron was now holding a sobbing Hermione as both of them cried.

George turned back to his twin, unsure of what to say, until . . .

"Our brother is in a league of his own; making a move while on a funeral."

George's grin widened along with his brother's. "Is there no low he won't stoop to?"

"What are you two on about?" Bill asked tiredly.

"Nothing!" the twins chorused, looking for the world that nothing was amiss. There was no trace of their mutual struggle to be with the one they cared for, no sign of the gloom that resulted in the fact that they couldn't. There was nothing but smiles and grins from the Weasley twins, because for as long as they had each other, that was nothing they couldn't overcome.

That's what Hermione saw this moment as, anyway. And it hurt her soul even more now to remember how alone George must feel right now. How alone she suddenly felt.

That was all she had time to think before the darkness overtook her and it was time to pull her head out the Pensieve again.

* * *

~o0o~

* * *

 **A/N: HELLO**

 **IT'S BEEN FOREVER**

 **I AM SO SORRY**

 **Hopefully, you've all been doing okay! It's amazing how much I love this story, which is why it took the time it took to write all of this. I wanted to make it right, I wanted you to get the memories you deserved. So yeah, it might have taken a while, but it's here now and the last vials are on their way! Yaaaaay!**

 **I'll try to update as soon as I can, if I can prevent myself from getting to emotional at the thought of the memories of Fred Weasley throughout the books almost being over. . .**

 **Hope you enjoyed, my little beans!**  
 **Until next time!**  
 **/Primrue**


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